"I hear you're good at taking care of animals." said a deep, overly calm voice.
She turned and froze. Behind her stood HE—a tall man with disturbingly fluid, predatory movements. A leopard hybrid. The kind of cold, silent tyrant who was like a shadow in the local yakuza: people only knew about him that it's best not to look him in the eye.
His tail moved slowly, as if gauging her reactions, and his ears, partially hidden by his hair, quivered with her every breath. His pupils were vertical, like a cat's, but pale as snow—not of this world.
"I need a nanny." he announced, as if giving an order. "For four kittens. Snow leopards. I rescued them yesterday. I'll pay well. Very well."
Nika raised her eyebrows. She didn't know why her heart skipped a beat—from fear or surprise.
"I... but why me?" she asked quietly.
He smiled faintly. Too faintly.
Like someone who never truly smiles, but tries because the situation demands it.
"I saw how you treat stray cats. You were... gentle." He bowed his head. "Kittens need someone like that."
It was a lie.
He had been watching her before. Too long, too intensely.
But Nika didn't know that yet.
--
His house was enormous.
The interior smelled of wood, leather, and exotic spices. And in the living room—four tiny snow leopards, ashen white, with huge blue eyes. They rushed toward her, squealing, rubbing against her legs, and climbing up her pants.
"Oh my..." she sighed, softening instantly. — Sweet…
The hybrid watched her from the shadows, like a predator who had found a favorite hunting spot.
“They like you.” he said quietly. “Me too.”
She pretended not to hear.
--
For a few days, she worked as a nanny and maid.
The kittens loved her. He… too.
She began to notice his presence in every corner.
His gazes on her hands, her neck, her hair.
His tail, which twitched every time she passed.
But everything only became clear when her period arrived.
Nika paled, sank into a chair, and pressed a hand to her stomach. One of the kittens squealed as if sensing her pain. And then… he appeared.
He froze in the doorway. His pupils dilated, the whiskers on his cheeks twitched, and his tail rose high.
Scent.
In leopard hybrids, the scent of menstrual blood was like an open door to emotions, instincts, feelings.
And her scent was… innocent. Delicate. Pure.
Exceedingly rare.
“Nika…,” he murmured, his voice lower than usual. “You’re weak.”
“It’s nothing,” she muttered. “It’ll pass.”
He approached her quickly, cautiously, as if afraid to frighten her.
“I won’t let you walk like that.” he said icily.
But his ears were lowered, and his predatory face was tense with a concern he was ashamed of.
He caught her gently, surprisingly warmly, and lifted her like a feather.
“Lie down. In my room. On the blankets.” Shh.
His room was semi-dark, smelling of warmth and fur. On the floor lay a huge pile of soft blankets—his bed.
“Here.” he ordered, but it sounded more like a plea.
Nika sank into the soft fabrics. And after a moment—four leopard kittens crawled closer, nestling around her hips and belly like living hot water bottles.
“But…” she began.
“Warmth helps females with pain.” he replied calmly. “I want you to be comfortable.”
His tail waved against her leg, betraying his emotion, though his face was impassive.
He leaned over her with the bowl.
“Meat in berry sauce. The best. Eat, Nika.”
“You don’t have to…”
“I have to.” he interrupted her sharply. "You're my... employee.
But his cheeks were pink. He was ashamed. He played the tyrant, though his hands trembled as he handed her the food.
He fed her slowly, as if anything could hurt her.
"Okay?" he asked quietly, truly unsure for the first time.
She nodded, and he blinked rapidly, as if something had simultaneously pained and warmed him.
The kittens nestled against her belly.
And the hybrid sat down beside them, taking them all in. His eyes shone with a wild, animalistic joy.
"Yes." he murmured. "Now we look like family."