Page 8 of Primal Bonds 1

I stared blindly at Mr. Nice Stranger as he came closer, looking at me with a dark frown on his face.

“The bath is ready,” he said.

He wasn’t going to hurt me, I knew that. Beastkin’s instinct. We could tell if there was a threat. We could tell if a man wanted to hurt us. They gave out this vibe, this killing aura only beastkin could detect.

There was no killing intent coming from Mr. Nice Stranger. Just warmth and calmness were all I sensed from him, like Mom. Long-forgotten sort of feelings that made my heart flutter with a sense of hope, maybe joy, and something else, something new, something I didn’t know.

I relaxed and then nodded. I moved up, and instantly gritted my teeth at the sheer ache echoing throughoutmy body. The moment I stood, the world spun around me and blackness invaded me.

Fuck!

I felt strong, powerful arms around me, and then I was being lifted off the floor. I took in a deep breath and said, “Sorry. I…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Mr. Nice Stranger said, and he carried me toward the door.

I felt so mortified.

“You don’t have to do that,” I said meekly.

“What? And let you crawl to the bathroom in your condition?” he asked. “I have no patience for that.”

He nudged the bathroom door open with his broad shoulder and stepped inside. Then he put me down.

“Thank you,” I said.

He shifted his eyes to my pants and asked, “You want help with taking those off?”

I felt my face burning hot and shook my head.

I was never shy when it came to taking off my clothes. We were forced to do it. Bare all for the monthly inspection, see if we were still good enough stock for the client.

Kuro, Aka, and I—we had always been the S-Grade, special, because we were so unique for foxkin—Kuro with his raven hair, pitch-black eyes, and snow-white skin; Aka with his crimson hair, emerald-green eyes, and freckles across the bridge of his nose; and me with my pure-white hair, azure-blue eyes, and milky-fair skin. Rich clients wanted us. To them, we looked enchanting lying uninhibited and vulnerable on their luxurious beds.

Yes, I was never shy when it came to taking my clothes off, but with Mr. Nice Stranger, I felt awkward.

“You need help getting into the bathtub?” he asked.

Again, I shook my head. Him helping me this far was wonderful enough. I didn’t want to feel like an invalid. Despite how worn out and painful my body felt, I’d manage. It was going to be slow, but I’d manage.

He turned on his heel and grabbed for the doorknob.

I licked my lip and asked, “What’s your name?”

He looked over his shoulder at me and said, “Adam.”

I gave him a tentative smile. “Thanks, Adam.”

“You’re welcome,” he said. He shifted his gaze to my mop of white hair. “And clean yourself properly. There’s shampoo, conditioner, and body wash.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

Then he was gone, shutting the door behind him.

Alone, I worked on taking off my pants. It was damn painful just moving my body, but I ignored it. Naked, I climbed into the luxurious bathtub.

I sighed pleasantly once my body hit the warm water. It felt like ages since I had a decent bath. Back at the institute, we’d usually get a two-minute shower, and before we were escorted for clients—ones that wanted pretty beastkin teens for pastimes—we’d be thoroughly cleaned until our hair was silky and soft, our skin smooth and sparkling, and we smelled like spring flowers. We’d get dressed per what the clients wanted, too; the perfect butler uniform, a sailor suit, cute dresses, or leather outfits with barely anything to cover our skin.

I shifted my thought away from the past and focused on my current situation.

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