My Special Pet

At my lowest point that year, I took a job at a pet shop, where I was assigned to take care of a "gentle-tempered" silver-white Alaskan Malamute.

Every time I went near him, he would lift his head and bury his nose against my chest, breathing in low, rough sounds that felt disturbingly like a grown man holding himself back.

Especially when my hand brushed through his beautiful fur, his body would heat up, and his eyes would darken and burn with unmistakable possessiveness.

Thinking he was sick, I rushed to find the shop owner.

The owner gave me a long, meaningful glance.

"He's not sick. But he only acts like this with you.

"You need to bathe him, give him a full-body massage, and try giving him a little kiss. Otherwise, he might lose control."

I had my doubts about the whole thing, but I didn't really have a choice. I went along with it anyway.

Eventually, I told the friend who had gotten me this job everything that had been happening.

After she heard me out, she went quiet for a second.

Then, she looked at me strangely and said, "Have you ever thought that maybe you're not looking after a dog at all? What if he's actually a werewolf who can take human form, and he's in heat, using pheromones to mess with you because he wants to… You know, sleep with you?"

After being thrown out of the house by my stepmom, Beatrice Hum, I went to stay with my friend, Allie Webster, in Mapleford.

When I arrived at Allie's place, with bags piled all around me, she blushed and told me, "Kelsey, I have a boyfriend now. I might not be able to let you stay…"

Before I could even start feeling sad, she quickly added, "Didn't you say you were looking for a job? I have one that's perfect for you."

She handed me a job ad, her cheeks still pink.

"It's an amazing job. That's actually how I met my boyfriend…"

After saying that, she gave me a warm kiss on the cheek, grabbed her bag, and rushed out the door.

"Wish me luck! When I get married, you have to be my maid of honor."

Being broke left me with no choice but to apply for this very strange job.

The place listed in the ad was a luxury mansion, with a stunning garden spread across the front yard. Dozens of large dogs were lying around the garden in small groups, lazily sunbathing.

The moment I walked in, all the dogs rushed at me as if I were a massive steak, happily rubbing against my chest.

In the middle of my confusion, I felt someone pat my butt.

I spun around, but there was no one there; only a silver-white Alaskan Malamute sitting behind me, staring with eyes full of possessiveness.

"They all really like you. Looks like you'll do just fine taking care of them."

The sudden voice startled me. A man in a tailcoat walked over with a polite smile and gave me a small nod. He looked like the owner.

I looked at him in shock and said, "So you're telling me that a job that demands I be over five-foot-seven, weigh less than a hundred and twenty pounds, look good, sound cute, and wear a sailor outfit to work is…"

A pet sitter?

Was the pet-sitting business really this hard to get into now?

"The pay is 130 dollars an hour. Any concerns about the salary?"

I straightened my back, gave a perfect maid-style bow, and smiled at the manager.

"None at all. I can start right now!"

With pay like that, I could live a great life!

"Excellent. I'm Fletcher Anderson, the guardian of these distinguished gentlemen."

Fletcher nodded in satisfaction, then looked at the dogs surrounding me and seemed troubled.

"You may choose one of them to serve. You know, they have very high standards. The caretaker has to deal with them one-on-one."

No problem. For that pay, I could treat them like royalty.

As for which one to choose…

My eyes were drawn straight to that beautiful Alaskan Malamute.

From the very first glance, I was captivated by his cold, handsome look. If I had to choose one, it would be him without hesitation.

Fletcher looked at the Alaskan Malamute. He lay calmly by my side and seemed completely satisfied with my choice.

Fletcher turned to me in surprise and said, "You're the first person Lord Allen has ever accepted. He's not showing any signs of rejection. This is incredible!"

The other dogs seemed to sense something terrible and quickly retreated, hiding far away from me.

The only one left at my side was the beautiful Alaskan Malamute named "Lord Allen".

"In that case, Lord Allen is now under your care. All his meals will be delivered by staff. This is Lord Allen's meal list. He is extremely picky, so you must memorize everything on it."

I took the stack of papers. It was nearly ten pages long, and I fell silent.

Then Fletcher continued, "Daily care is just the basics. You must stay close to Lord Allen, keep yourself neat and clean at all times, and fulfill any request he makes, including any special services."

It looked like this dog belonged to some wealthy family and had been spoiled since he was little. That 130-dollar-an-hour pay was clearly not easy money.

At the time, I was only worried about how demanding this job sounded.

I never imagined that even bigger trouble was waiting ahead.