I’m a Witch Who Bought a Strong Werewolf Slave
I bought a breathtakingly handsome and sculpted werewolf slave from the magic black market.
His rock-hard abs were on full display, and his deep V-lines pointed straight down into his tight, low-slung pants.
But once I got him home, it was clear something was very wrong.
A low, suppressed growl rumbled constantly in his throat.
He stared at me with his golden wolf eyes, looking like he wanted to tear me apart and devour me whole. His body burned like a walking furnace.
I thought he had wolfsbane fever and frantically contacted the seller.
The seller was silent for three seconds after hearing my description.
[My dear witch, is it possible he isn't sick, but just...hungry?]
[The kind of hungry...that makes a werewolf want to pin you to a wall and sink his fangs into your neck to mark you?]