My Life as a Beast Keeper

After crying, Mom turned around and suddenly remembered that there was still the odd one out in the house—me. Her expression instantly turned guilty, and she turned and slapped Lisa hard across the face.

"Did you just hit me?" Lisa's eyes brimmed with tears. “Do you have any idea what I've been through these past ten days? I finally made it back, and you hit me!"

"Have you ever considered what your sister has endured these past 18 years?" Mom pulled Dad back as he tried to comfort Lisa. "If you can't accept your sister, then you're no longer my daughter!"

From then on, Lisa no longer openly picked fights with me.

Not long after she returned Salem to me, Salem shapeshifted.

He had curly black hair, almond-shaped eyes with slightly downturned corners, and glossy black fur.

He tilted his head at me and called out the first name he'd ever heard in his transformed state. "Lisa?"

"I'm Lisa!" Lisa rushed up from behind me and jumped into his arms. "Salem, you actually remember me! Remember when I brought you with me to wander the streets?"

Salem caught her with ease, his tail wagging happily. "I remember. I remember everything about you."

My parents sighed and put their arms around my shoulders to comfort me.

Salem was sullen for a long time after he found out I was his true owner.

I tried different methods to coax him every day before he reluctantly accepted me.

He stubbornly refused to wag his tail at me or let me touch his ears, nor did he wait for me to come home as other beastkin did.

He only reacted to Lisa's footsteps and awaited her return.

I always watch them interact in a daze, but deep down, I didn't really mind because Salem's substantial monthly expenses were deposited into my account.

My parents' silent guilt also kept flowing into my account.

It was just that recently, I'd started getting pimples. After a checkup, I realized my body actually had… needs.

Salem refused to let me touch him. Since Clayton happened to show up, I had no reason to refuse.

"Why don't you sleep in my room tonight?" I took Clayton's hand and led him toward the bedroom. "I'll take you shopping for clothes tomorrow."

"Won't he mind?" Clayton asked.

I turned around to face him. "Who?"

"Salem." He lowered his gaze and added, "Wolfhounds can be territorial."

"No. He doesn't like rooming with me."

Clayton suddenly remembered something and tightened his grip on my hand. "Do we still have to tonight?"

"Have to what?" I asked.

A faint blush spread across the tips of his ears. "To vent."

"I want to, but my legs are sore," I replied.

"I'm in great shape, so you can just relax."

"That sounds like a hassle," I said.

"It's not."

…

"Layla?"

That morning, I happened to leave the room as Salem did.

He frowned at me. "Why were you talking in your sleep all night? All that whimpering and moaning… Didn't you realize how noisy it was?"

I didn't get annoyed and replied good-naturedly, "Sorry, I'll keep it down next time."

His tone softened slightly as he awkwardly asked, "Did you have a nightmare? I thought I heard you crying."

"That was from pleasure," I thought.

"If you're having nightmares, I can—"

As he spoke, he was suddenly interrupted by Lisa saying, "Salem, my slippers are missing."

"Don't just wander barefoot." Salem strode over to Lisa's bedroom and carried her outside. "How could your slippers be in the hall when you're in the bedroom, silly?"

"I was too tired yesterday. You're the one who carried me to bed last night," she replied.

Salem held Lisa as he helped her find her bunny slippers. Then he sat her on his lap, held her ankles, and patiently slipped the slippers onto her feet.

Only after finishing these tasks did Salem head upstairs toward the bathroom.

He was a perfect service beastkin—only his services weren't directed at me.

"Layla, my clothes are in the laundry basket. Remember to send them for dry cleaning," he ordered.

As he passed by me, he suddenly halted. "What's that scent?"

I was puzzled. "Huh?"

Salem stepped closer, wrapping his arms around my waist and burying his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply. The more he sniffed at me, the tighter his grip became.

"Layla, why do you smell of another beastkin?" he demanded.

I said nothing.