I pointed at the mountain of oversized packages stacked in the corner of the station.

"Adrian, relax. See those boxes?"

He followed my finger, a flicker of confusion in his eyes.

"I see them."

"Your job is simple. Move all the ones marked in red onto that cargo tricycle. The ones marked in blue go all the way to the back of the warehouse."

Adrian froze.

He turned to look at me, and for the first time, something like disbelief crossed his face.

"You bought me… to carry boxes?"

I nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"What else? You think I bought you to worship? I paid two thousand five hundred dollars. You're earning that back."

He fell silent.

Something complicated flickered through those deep green eyes.

Humiliation, maybe. Relief. And beneath it, something darker. Almost fervent.

He didn't argue. He turned and walked toward the pile.

A double-door refrigerator, still mounted on its wooden shipping frame, weighed at least six hundred pounds.

Normally I needed two workers to lift it, plus a tip to keep them from complaining.

Adrian stepped up, gripped the edge of the wooden frame with one hand, braced his back and hoisted the entire thing onto his shoulder.

Effortless. Like lifting a sack of cotton.

My jaw nearly dropped.

Jackpot.

This wasn't a vicious werewolf. This was my personal money-printing machine.

He carried the refrigerator to the tricycle and set it down gently.

Then he looked back at me.

Like he was waiting. For orders. Or praise.

I walked over and patted his dust-covered shoulder.

"Nice work. Keep going. There are a hundred more."

The slight lift to his chin stiffened.

He stared at me in disbelief.

"A hundred?"

"Yes. Hurry. The truck leaves at six."

I was already turning away to check invoices.

Behind me, heavy footsteps and the thud of boxes hitting metal echoed through the station.

Adrian worked nonstop.

All afternoon, in the sweltering warehouse without air conditioning, he did the labor of three men by himself.

Sweat traced down the sharp line of his jaw, soaking through his worn tank top.

The scent of heat and sweat filled the air.

Every so often I looked up. He would be hauling another crate—while staring at me.

That look was intense.

Hot enough to burn.

And the grinding never stopped.

The sound made my own teeth ache.

By the time we closed for the night, I handed him a boxed dinner with two extra chicken legs inside.

"Eat. You did well today."

Adrian took the food but didn't open it.

Instead, he stepped closer. His tall frame cast a shadow over me.

He lowered his head until his nose was almost brushing the side of my neck.

His breath was hot against my skin.

"Jade."

He said my name, voice hoarse and strained.

"I feel terrible."

My heart jumped. I thought he'd overworked himself or gotten heatstroke.

"What hurts? Did you strain your back?"

I reached toward his lower back.

The moment my hand touched his muscle, his entire body jolted.

He grabbed my wrist—hard enough to make my pulse spike.

But he quickly reined himself in, his grip loosening to something almost careful.

The green in his eyes darkened. His breathing turned uneven.

"My teeth itch. I want to bite something."

I exhaled in relief.

"You scared me. I thought it was a workplace injury. It's normal. You're a wolf. Grinding your teeth is instinct."

I pulled a stick of dried beef jerky from my drawer—the one I'd meant to snack on myself—and pushed it into his mouth.

"Bite this. It'll keep you busy."

Adrian held the jerky between his teeth.

For a split second, his expression went blank.

Then the grinding grew even more intense.

Over the next month, Adrian became the most talked-about courier in the district.

He delivered fast, lifted like a machine, and looked intimidating enough that no one dared file complaints.

My business doubled.

I was extremely satisfied with him.

Except for his increasingly serious "condition."

He stopped sleeping on the camp cot I had prepared for him.

Every night, I would wake up to find him asleep on the carpet in my room.

Right beside my bed.

Sometimes I would open my eyes in the middle of the night and see a pair of glowing green eyes fixed on me in the dark.

Unblinking.

His body temperature kept rising, too.

The entire room felt like a furnace because of him.

Worse, he developed an obsessive need for physical proximity.

When I was entering data at the front desk, he would wedge himself between me and the counter.

When I was eating, he stared at my lips.

When I walked, he followed less than two feet behind me.

The grinding sound had turned into heavy breathing.

It made my nerves tighten.

That night, I stepped out of the shower and found Adrian sitting on my bed.

He was holding the clothes I had just taken off.

His face was buried in them as he inhaled deeply.

At the sound of the door, he lifted his head.

His eyes were rimmed red. Sweat beaded across his forehead. The veins in his neck stood out sharply.

"Adrian! What are you doing?"

I rushed over and snatched the clothes away.

He looked embarrassed and angry, but more than anything, caught off guard.

He didn't apologize.

Instead, he stepped closer.

"Jade, I can't control it."

His voice was rough, almost pleading.

"You smell too good."

I pressed my hand to his forehead.

Burning.

Hot enough to sting.

"Do you have a fever?"

Panic crept in.

He was my main source of income. If he went down, who was delivering those packages?

"Adrian, did you catch something? Some acute infection? Is this rabies or something?"

He closed his eyes, as if holding himself together by sheer will.

He caught my hand where it rested on his forehead and pressed his face into my palm.

His skin felt rough, the scrape of stubble against my hand.

But the way he leaned into it was almost reverent, like a large dog begging to be petted.

"I don't have a fever. I just… feel empty here."

He tapped his chest. Then his mouth.

"I need to bite something. It has to be you."

He sounded delirious.

Clearly out of his mind from the heat.

"Enough. Lie down. I'll get you some medicine."

I pushed him onto the bed and pulled the blanket over him.

Adrian tried to get up, but I shot him a stern look.

"Don't move. I'll dock your pay."

That worked.

Adrian went still.

He curled up in my blanket, nose pressed firmly into my pillow.

His eyes looked damp as they followed me.

That rapid rumbling sound vibrated in his throat again.

I remembered what the seller had said about heightened aggression during rut phase.

Could the incubation period really be this long?

Not taking any chances, I turned and ran out of the room.

I sat on the couch in the living room and unlocked my phone.

I pulled up the seller's chat window.

It was one in the morning.

"Are you there? I need to return him."

The reply came instantly. "What happened? Did the werewolf hurt you?"

My fingers were trembling as I typed.

"This is worse than that. I think he's lost his mind."

"He doesn't sleep at night. He sneaks into my room and stares at me."

"His body temperature is so high you could fry an egg on him. He won't stop panting."

"He's been sniffing my clothes and saying he wants to bite me."

"And most importantly, he keeps grinding his teeth at my neck. The way he looks at me… it's like he wants to devour me."

"Is this rabies? Or some kind of werewolf plague?"

The screen showed typing.

It took a long time.

Then a voice message came through. I could hear faint laughter in the background.

"We don't recommend returning him."

"He's not teething, and it's not rabies. Werewolves only feel the urge to bite the back of their mate's neck for mate-marking during their rut phase."

"His rising body temperature means he's nesting. He's courting you."

"He smells your clothes because he already considers you his mate. Your scent calms him."

"To put it simply. He's not sick. He wants you. He wants you to bear his pups."

The words on the screen made my mind buzz.

Rut phase?

Marking?

Pups?

I instinctively glanced at my bedroom door.

I remembered the way he looked at me.

That naked, undisguised possessiveness.

It wasn't a predator eyeing prey.

It was a male looking at a female.

And the jerky I had shoved into his mouth earlier.

No wonder his expression had been so strange.

I had basically insulted a top predator in rut with a snack.

Another message popped up.

"If a werewolf's rut phase isn't relieved, the pain can become unbearable. In extreme cases, blood vessels may rupture, leading to death."

"Of course, if you truly cannot accept it, we can arrange a return. However, returned werewolves who fail in courtship are typically humanely euthanized."

Humanely euthanized.

Those words stung.

Adrian might be fierce, but he had worked hard this past month and made me a lot of money.

And aside from being overly clingy, he hadn't actually hurt me.

Just then, a loud crash came from the bedroom, as if something heavy had hit the floor.

Followed by Adrian's pained, guttural growl.

I didn't think. I dropped my phone and ran in.

The room was in chaos.

Adrian had fallen to the floor, wrapped tightly in my blanket.

His muscles were drawn tight to the point of trembling, his skin flushed an unnatural red.

When he heard me enter, he jerked his head up.

His eyes, once deep green, had turned dark red.

Dangerous. Predatory.

But he was retreating.

Forcing himself into the corner.

"Jade… don't come closer."

His voice sounded dragged out of his chest.

"Leave. I'll… hurt you."

Veins bulged across the back of his hand as his nails dug into the floor, carving deep scratches.

He was fighting it.

Using every shred of reason to battle instinct.

I stood at the doorway, staring at the man who could lift six hundred pounds without blinking, now fragile under the weight of desire.

The seller's words echoed in my mind.

If it wasn't relieved, he could die.

I was a businesswoman.

I didn't make losing investments.

But I also didn't want my employee dying in front of me.

And…

I had to admit it.

Looking at Adrian like this—restrained, wild, barely holding himself together.

Something in me stirred.

I drew in a deep breath. Closed the bedroom door.

Locked it.

Then I walked toward the man crouched in the corner.

"Adrian."

I said his name.

"If I don't return you, can you promise you'll work for me and me alone for the rest of your life?"

Adrian froze.

His pupils shrank sharply as I approached.

"You…"

I crouched down in front of him.

I reached out and gently touched his burning cheek.

"Answer me. Can you promise me that?"

He was breathing hard, his cheek rubbing against my palm.

Something inside him snapped.

He lunged forward and wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me into his chest.

His body was blazing hot.

He buried his face in the crook of my neck and inhaled deeply.

Then his teeth pressed lightly against the back of my neck.

"Yes. I'll give you my life."

The next second, he pinned me beneath him.

Those dark red eyes burned with a fire fierce enough to consume me whole.

"Jade. I want to bite you. Now."