Chapter 2

Suddenly, the door swung open.

"Awake?" A lazy voice drawled. I looked up and met a pair of cold, indifferent eyes.

He walked over and reached for my blanket.

My voice came out hoarse. "...Wait."

He narrowed his eyes, leaning in close. "What's wrong, owner?"

"I'm too tired. I need to rest." I said softly.

"Can't do that." His tone was light, almost dismissive. "Owner, you took us in, so you're responsible for us. We haven't been fed at all. If you rest, what are we supposed to do?"

With that, he grabbed my chin and leaned in—right before his lips touched mine, I shoved him away with all my strength.

"Melissa's coming to pick you up this afternoon!"

The man in front of me froze.

Even the two leaning against the doorframe went still.

George tilted his head. "Which one?"

I shook my head. "All of you."

"Don't joke like that, owner."George said.

I wasn't joking.

If they didn't want me, I'd give them exactly what they wanted.

But to my surprise, they didn't look happy at all—their faces just darkened.

Over the next two days, the three wolves barely spoke to me, and they stopped coming to me for anything intimate.

Then I got a call from Melissa. "Sis, my snake beastman's having some issues today. I'm swamped—could you check on him for me?"

I agreed. I was curious to see what this snake beastman was like, anyway.

I drove back to the villa and slipped into my sister's room.

That was when the man inside stepped out—tall, lean, his back stiff with cold tension.

The next second, my eyes met his dark, shadowed gaze.

I pressed my lips together and said, "Hey."

His stare was heavy—that uniquely serpentine mix of slimy and oppressive.

It sent chills down my spine.

Then, without warning, his pupils contracted into razor-sharp vertical slits.

A slick serpentine tail coiled around my waist in an instant.

A strange, heady scent exploded in the air, flooding the room in seconds.

I shoved at him in panic, but it was useless. "You're... you're in heat!"

He pressed me hard against the door—a dull thud echoed through the room. His tail cushioned the impact, so it didn't hurt.

I felt his breath ghost over my neck, sending goosebumps across my skin.

My fingers twitched.

When I looked up, those pale gold vertical pupils seemed even darker, more predatory. The tail around my waist tightened.

I reached up with difficulty and touched his cool cheek. "Does it hurt? Let me get you some suppressants, okay?"

The suffocating pressure around me eased—just slightly. Even the cloying scent in the air stopped intensifying.

I thought I'd calmed him down. I let out a small breath of relief.

Then I felt it—cold against my neck.

He bit me. Not gently. Like he was sinking his fangs into prey—but with something almost teasing in the way his tongue followed.

I let out a muffled sound and bit my lower lip.

After the bite came a cold, wet tongue, lapping at the spot.

I shoved the snake beastman off, not daring to look at his tail again, and scrambled for the suppressants.

I tossed them at him, then ran to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face.

Oh my god. Wasn't he supposed to be cold and distant?