3. Shiro

3

Shiro

H is hand had felt warm and gentle, and I touched the place where he had petted me on the top of my head. It reminded me of when Mom had used to pet me, and I felt my heart aching, not just because I missed her, but because I wanted to see her and be with her again. But Mom was never going to be here with me again; I had told myself that many times, because she had passed on, beaten and stabbed during that raid, a pool of blood around us.

I inhaled a deep breath to calm myself down, to stop the tears from welling in my eyes. Fuck, I was eighteen now. I was an adult, so I needed to be an adult, act like one.

I shifted my gaze around the room again, noting how fancy it was. The nice stranger—my savior—must be loaded. I wasn’t sure why he decided to help me when I had asked, but I was just glad, overjoyed in fact, that he did. I knew if I didn’t get help, I’d probably be dead, if not from starvation and my injuries, then because of Tony and his lackeys. I knew they’d be back to get me, beating the crap out of me and assaulting me again.

I suddenly wanted to claw at my face, mark it and disfigure it so those interested would leave me alone. But every time I wanted to proceed, I’d stopped myself short because of the thought of Mom.

I looked like my mother—my face, my blue eyes, my fox ears, and my small fangs. They were what I had inherited from her genetically, and they reminded me of her, and I didn’t want to lose that. She was my pride, as I had been hers.

We, the beastkin, might be deemed parasites and useless to the world at large, but deep inside, we were kind and we cared for one another greatly. The world, however, was cruel and chose to ignore that side of us, painting us as wild and untamable.

We were not human, and according to them , we had neither morals nor compassion, which was why they worked hard on putting us into the institute to nurture and educate us so we would be deemed suitable for society.

Lies!

All of it were lies. We were just stock. They groomed us to become nothing more than some sicko’s pet, offering our asses and mouths for those powerful, rich men’s dicks.

Rage erupted within me again, and I swore under my breath.

Kuro. Aka.

My adopted brothers. Were they alright?

We had grown up together—Kuro, Aka, and I. We were a team of three, supporting each other when times got tough, when our souls and hearts were being broken again and again.

We had been separated six months ago when the institute had tracked us down. The very sight of the officers and the chaos that ensued had paralyzed me and I felt nothing but blind fear. It had been a miracle that I had been able to escape their clutches at all. But what of Kuro and Aka? Had they been captured again? Fuck, I didn’t know and the thought that they might have been taken terrified me.

“Shiro!”

I snapped out of my miserable thoughts—alert, my heart racing at hearing my name being called. My body was tense, ready to bolt if need be.

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 throughout my 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 .

After the bath, Adam would then treat my wounds and provide me food. And then what after that? Was I allowed to stay for the night or was I to immediately leave? Then where would I go? Back to the street and sleeping in the cold, dark alley, waking up every few minutes to check if I’d be attacked by those street gangs ruling this part of the neighborhood?

The thought made me feel sick to my stomach. I had thought running away from the institute would gain me freedom and a new life, one that I’d be able to live like normal people do.

I was wrong. I was never considered normal people in the first place. I was a beastkin, the lowest of the low, and no matter how much I deluded myself into thinking this outside world would be kind to me and give me a chance, that was never going to happen. Beastkin would always be beastkin, sticking out like a sore thumb in the crowd with our beastly ears and little fangs. Funny how if we were to hide those, we’d look just like any normal man, and in the crowd, no one would be the wiser.

“Adam.” I said the name softly, liking the way the two syllables rolled off my tongue.

He was nice. So fucking nice that it made me want to cry. Why was he so nice to me? Why did he help me?

Since Kuro, Aka, and I had run away from the institute a year ago, not one person had been nice to us. We had to go around the streets, begging for alms and prostituting ourselves to survive.

Thinking back, that part of our lives hadn’t changed, contrary to our prior hope. Maybe our lives were meant to be like this, and no matter how much we screamed and cried at how unfair it was, it was never going to change.

That thought pissed me off. No matter what, though, I wasn’t going to give up. My dream of living a peaceful life in a nice cottage on a remote farm with Kuro and Aka deep in the mountain still burned deep in my heart. We’d be self-sufficient. We’d be happy with no one to bother us.

There was a loud rap on the door, which made me jolt, alert, my ears sticking up and my body tense, my eyes zeroed in on the door. I was ready to bolt.

“Shiro?” It was Adam’s voice, the timbre deep. It was very pleasant to the ear and made me relax.

“Yes?” I replied.

“You okay in there?”

Was he worried about me? I felt my heart flutter and my cheeks flushing hot.

“Yeah,” I said, realizing I hadn’t even started on cleaning myself. I had been deep in thoughts, and naturally, enjoying the hot bath.

The door opened, and Adam poked his head in. He took one look at me and said, “Enjoying yourself in there?”

I grinned at him.

Fuck, I was smiling, again . I had never smiled at strangers. I had only reserved that radiant look for Mom, Kuro, and Aka, to tell them non-verbally that I was fine or that I appreciated them or to cheer them up. But strangers? Never.

So why was I smiling at this man? He was a stranger, after all. But he calmed me down, his voice and his presence.

Adam came into the room and then shut the door behind him. I watched him, tense suddenly, as he approached me.

He sat on the side of the tub and then reached out for the bottle of shampoo. He squeezed some solution into his palm and then turned to me. “May I?”

He wanted to wash my hair for me? I was dumbfounded.

I hesitantly nodded, and he proceeded with the washing, rubbing the solution—which smelled nice—onto my thick hair until my head was full of bubbles.

His hands felt gentle, and I relaxed, loving the feeling of him massaging my head. When he was done, he leaned in, his muscular body over me. He smelled nice and felt warm. Something pleasant stirred deep within me.

Adam turned on the shower and rinsed my hair off, scrubbing the strands at the same time. When that was done, he applied the conditioner.

“Do you want me to wash your body for you?” he asked. “You probably find it hard to move.”

I shook my head and stammered, “No, it’s okay. I can wash myself.” I looked up at him. “Thanks for washing my hair for me.”

His face impassive, he nodded. “Suit yourself,” he said, then got up and headed out the door again.

I relaxed and sighed, my cheeks still burning hot. I reached for the body sponge, applied some body wash, and then started cleaning myself.