The Beast Keeper's Code

The courier delivered a crocodile beastman meant for a lab straight to my door. I thought it was the mermaid I'd ordered. I took good care of him, and as we spent time together, he gradually came to accept me. A month later, the golden-eyed giant crocodile was lounging comfortably in my lap. The doorbell rang. Outside stood a handsome young man. "Hello, I'm the mermaid you ordered. I'm so sorry for the delay—there were some issues with the shop." A wide shadow fell over me from behind. The tall man stood beside me, his powerful tail curling around my waist. His eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. And when he spoke, his voice was low but sharp as a blade. "Care to explain who this is? Dear... owner." Chapter 1 At dusk, I got a call from the courier. "Jenna Hart? You've got a live delivery. Come sign for it." Before long, a fish tank nearly six meters long was hauled into my living room. The water was murky from the long journey. I could faintly smell blood. Through the streaked glass, I could make out a man sleeping beneath the surface, eyes closed tight. He was curled up, suspended in the water. A massive tail covered in black scales hid most of his body. The lower half of his face was locked in an iron muzzle, but even so, I could see the sharp lines of his features. I pressed my palm against the glass. That's when his eyelids fluttered. Slowly, they opened, revealing pure gold eyes. I stumbled back a step. But the man made no move toward me. He just stared. Hollow-eyed. Detached. Like a body with no soul inside. A glint of light caught my eye. I noticed the collar around his neck. It looked like some kind of new-tech device—simple, sturdy, with a small light in the center, glowing steady green. Above it, a number was engraved: Twelve. Something in my chest tightened. Mermaids were supposed to be gentle. Why did they need all these restraints? After a moment, I tapped on the glass. "Hey, Twelve. I'm going to let you out for some air, okay?" Mermaids preferred water, sure, but in today's world, it was common for them to walk around in human form. A tank like that was far too cramped for them. The light on Twelve's collar flicked to yellow, then back to green. After a long pause, he gave a small nod. I started figuring out how to open the tank. It seemed custom-made. No instructions. Thick chains wound around the top, layer after layer. Total overkill. I grabbed my electric saw, climbed up on a stool, and spent a good while cutting through each lock. When I finished, Twelve broke through the surface and landed silently on the floor. He'd shifted fully human, save for a few patches of black scales still clinging to his cheek and calf. Soaking wet. Water dripped from him, pattering onto the thick rug and disappearing into the fibers. "Hungry?" I asked. "Want to eat first?" His lips parted, but no sound came. I introduced myself. "I'm Jenna Hart. From now on, I'm your owner." Finally, a reaction. "Owner?" "Yes," I repeated. "Owner." The next second, I was on the floor. Chapter 2 The world spun. My back hit the semi-soft leather of the couch. For a moment, I was disoriented. Twelve lowered his head and pressed the cold iron muzzle against me without a flicker of emotion. A breath, cool and faint, brushed over my lips. I reached up and lightly pushed his face to the side. "No," I scolded softly. "Not obedient." Twelve went completely still. His face stayed where I'd turned it, frozen, like his brain had short-circuited. From what I'd read beforehand, adopted beastmen came with a certain wildness. I'd thought mermaids were gentler and wouldn't have this issue. Turned out I was wrong. But then Twelve slowly turned his head back. He lowered himself deliberately and pressed the muzzle against my lips again, nuzzling lightly. It clicked. "Sorry... This thing hurts, doesn't it? You want it off?" Twelve paused, then gave a small, obedient nod. I reached up, traced my fingers along his ear to the clasp at the back of the muzzle, and unhooked it cleanly. The muzzle fell away. He watched me without moving. Deep red marks were pressed into his cheeks from where it had sat. Clearly, it had been on his face a long time. Beastmen kept in captivity too long often developed psychological issues—unstable moods, stress triggers. Technically, receiving a beastman in this condition counted as a quality issue. As a customer, I had every right to complain to customer service and send him back. But looking at Twelve, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Right now, he loomed over me like a mountain, his shadow pooling across me. His eyes were utterly calm. Like stagnant marsh water—empty, thick, not a trace of light. Just like the darkening sky outside the window. Maybe he was waiting for me to decide to send him away too. I hesitated, then reached up and ruffled his hair, pulling him into an embrace. "It's okay. Don't be scared." My voice came soft. "From now on, this is your home." His hair was cold and coarse beneath my fingers, prickly like new grass. Twelve went rigid in my arms. Then, after a moment, he suddenly lowered his head and brushed his lips against the side of my neck—a tentative, gentle gesture. Twelve stayed with me. I didn't mind that he didn't trust me yet, or that he was guarded, or even that he had his moods. He'd been through something bad. That wasn't his fault. I figured if I was patient enough, given time, he'd find his way back to being normal and happy. To take better care of him, I joined a mermaid care group with an eager-to-learn attitude. The other owners were super welcoming. The moment they heard I'd just brought home a new mermaid, they started firing off questions and advice. "What breed? What color?" "Male? How old?" "Vaccines all done? How're his tail scales looking?" I answered nervously, one by one. "I think he's an Arctic mermaid. But he mostly stays in human form, rarely shows his tail. I remember it being dark black." "Male. Seller said around twenty." "Vaccines probably not done yet. Tail scales look fine though—pretty hard." The group was confused. "Black? I don't think Arctic mermaids come in black." "Could be a mutant? Girl, be careful. You might've gotten a defective one from a shady seller." "Maybe they dyed it to charge more. Next time you bathe him, scrub hard with cleaner and see if the color comes off." I looked up at Twelve. He'd just cut up a fruit platter and set it on the table. Quiet and well-behaved. When he caught me staring, he tilted his head, confused. "Twelve," I called. "Did you go through a lot of pain back there? Before you came here?" He paused. Then slowly ambled over, sat down cross-legged beside me, and nudged his head into my palm. I scratched behind his ear like he wanted. His eyes immediately went half-lidded, content. "Good," I praised. "Any other injuries I don't know about?" He stayed quiet, like he was figuring out how to answer. I put on a serious face and cupped his chin with both hands, turning him toward me. "You can't hide things like this from me, okay? I heard mermaids love water, but ever since you came home, you've never gone into that tank. And you always avoid me when you shower. Is there something you're not telling me?" He repeated slowly, "Mer... maid?" "Yeah. And which ocean are you from anyway? I ordered an Arctic mermaid, but they said Arctic mermaids don't come in your color." Twelve fell silent again. I started to worry. "Are you sick? Are you hiding it because you don't want to bother me?" I chewed on it for a moment, then said, "How about this—I'll take you to the hospital tomorrow." The second he heard "hospital," his eyes went terrifyingly cold. I hesitated. "Twelve?" His grip on my hand tightened suddenly. Sharp pain shot through my fingers. I winced. He let go immediately. After a pause, he said quietly, "I'm not sick. I'm not going to the hospital." His hand was trembling slightly as he spoke. I could feel how tense he was. He was probably afraid I'd find something wrong and abandon him. It wasn't rare for people to dump pets once they got sick. But I wasn't that kind of person. Forcing him now wouldn't do any good. At least he seemed okay for the moment. There was plenty of time. For now, I'd just have to find out gently, piece by piece. Chapter 3 A couple days later, I pulled out the new mermaid-specific body wash I'd bought and stood in the bathroom, waving Twelve over. He walked in. "Miss? What do you need?" I pointed at the tub. "Get in," I ordered. "Since I've got some free time today, I'm giving you a proper bath. Wash off whatever bad juju you've been carrying." Twelve went stiff. He answered slowly, "That's not necessary." I was a little confused. Mermaids were supposed to be clingy. Once they bonded with their owner, they wanted to be glued to them all the time, playing and splashing around. Bathing was one of their favorite activities. Why was Twelve resisting? Probably still didn't feel safe. I softened my tone. "Don't worry. I'm not going to stop liking you over anything." Even if he had scars or illness, I wouldn't reject him. I'd only feel sorry for him. He blinked slowly, his wet eyes fixed on me with intense focus, like he was checking whether I meant it. Finally, he undid his robe. Pale, firm skin hit the air. Under the fluorescent light, it even seemed to glow faintly. Smooth, fluid muscle ran from his chest down his arms, then tapered sharply at his waist in a clean, beautiful line. I'd bought him soft sleep robes so he wouldn't get cold. And since mermaids liked being in water, I'd also gotten him quick-dry swim trunks. That's what he was wearing now. Giving in to my insistence, Twelve walked past me step by step and climbed into the tub. The moment his skin touched water, patches of hard black scales surfaced, but his tail didn't materialize. The bubbles in the tub foamed up around his movements, covering the surface in thick white, hiding everything below. Twelve sat down. His voice came rough. "Like this?" "Yeah." I sat down beside the tub and reached in, working the foam into his hair. His short, coarse hair softened in the water. It felt nice—I couldn't help rubbing a little more. No color came off. Twelve let out a low grunt. "What's wrong? Uncomfortable?" I asked. He closed the distance between us in a flash. The bathroom light burned as hot as his gaze. He leaned in until his face was an inch from mine. His breath came cool and fragrant with herbs, brushing over my skin. His lips parted slightly—thin, red, his eyes dark and deep. I caught a glimpse of sharp fangs. I blinked, reached up, and smeared a dab of foam right on his nose. Twelve froze. Emboldened, I pinched his cheek, then braced a hand on his shoulder and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Be good," I said. "We can play after you're clean." But Twelve seemed completely lost to reason. His gaze burned without any pretense. His long arm shot out, and in one smooth, practiced motion, he dragged me into the water too. Like he was hauling in prey. Water splashed everywhere. Foam scattered. I flailed in the slippery tub, scrambling for something to hold onto, finally bracing myself against the hard bottom. I steadied myself, then scowled. "Twelve!" I lifted my head—and met eyes that had gone almost blood-red, ringed in gold. Water rippled around us. My soaked clothes clung to my skin, warm and sticky. Twelve opened his jaws again, fangs bared, and leaned toward my neck. Chapter 4 His handsome face was inches away. I was softening at his closeness when the TV in the other room crackled with an urgent news bulletin. "We interrupt this broadcast. Frost Lab is reporting a high-risk biological specimen escape. A giant black crocodile beastman undergoing experimentation broke containment three days ago. The subject, codename Twelve, is extremely violent and dangerous. Though equipped with high-precision restraint devices, there remains a risk of breach. The head researcher, Mr. Miller, is cooperating with authorities in the pursuit. Citizens are advised not to engage the subject directly. Please contact the lab or police immediately if sighted..." Twelve went rigid. The collar around his neck blazed red, like a stop signal. I started to sense something off. Slowly, I relaxed my brow and reached up, taking his chin. "Twelve... you..." His arm around my waist tightened. His pupils trembled violently, like they were about to shatter. I hesitated, then let the rest of the words out. "...are your teeth hurting?" Twelve stared at me. His usually cold, flat eyes shifted, rippling with emotion. His lips stayed parted, silent for a long moment. No answer came. I grew impatient and slipped two fingers into his mouth, forcing his lips wider. His breath stalled against my fingers. "Doesn't look like anything's wrong..." I tilted his mouth to get a better look. "Where does it hurt?" He let me do whatever I wanted. Not a flicker of annoyance when I pried his mouth open. After a few seconds, the light on his collar shifted from red to yellow, then back to green. Suddenly, my body lifted. Twelve scooped me up in his arms, stepped out of the tub in one long stride, and walked toward the living room. Water dripped steadily from both of us, soaking the absorbent mat beneath. He grabbed a towel from the hook, draped it over me, and carried me all the way to the couch. He set me down, then turned and jabbed the TV off. The room fell silent. Twelve looked at me. His lips moved, rough and hesitant. "Why...?" "Why what?" I asked. "Why... aren't you afraid of me?" He spoke slowly, softly. Like he wasn't used to talking. Like he was terrified of what I'd say. I didn't know what he was so afraid of. But I could see how unsettled he was. He curled up on the rug by my feet, like a dog scared of being abandoned. I reached down and placed my hand on his head. "Why would I be afraid of you?" I asked gently. "I think you're adorable, Twelve." Twelve said nothing. My fingers slid down, brushing the damp hair from his forehead. My words came clear and steady. "You're my beastman. And you're my family. The one I chose." "I don't know what you've been through. But it's over now." "I'll tell you as many times as you need—I'm not scared of you. I'm not leaving you. And I'm not giving up on you." I spoke each word like a vow. "Can you trust me?" Twelve looked up at me. The light on his collar flickered, then settled into a steady green. After a long silence, he silently wrapped his fingers around mine. Chapter 5 After that day, something subtle shifted in Twelve's demeanor. He still didn't talk much. But the way he looked at me had grown softer. He started doing things for me without being asked. At first I was stunned, confused. But over time, I got used to having him around like this. It had been a long time since I'd had this kind of companionship. My parents were wild beastman rangers. When I was little, they took me all over the world, rescuing rare wild beastmen from poachers. They gave me a childhood that was vast and wild and beautiful. I still missed it sometimes. But when I was ten, our camp was attacked. Wild beastmen were being hunted. My parents died protecting a rare species. Over the years, I'd learned to live alone. Accepted my situation. Gotten used to the emptiness. Twelve changed all of that. We grew closer. He trusted me more. After all this time together, I didn't think anything was physically wrong with him. But I'd noticed things that didn't add up. Mermaids were supposed to love fruits and vegetables. Twelve preferred meat. Especially beef and lamb. I didn't mind that he ate a lot. I just worried he might be some special breed I couldn't care for properly. No one in the mermaid group could identify what kind he was. But I figured it wasn't that important. A month later, I was curled up on the couch watching a movie. Twelve's head rested by my leg, his breathing slow and peaceful. Then the doorbell rang. Who'd be coming at this hour? Twelve stirred sleepily, half-opening his eyes to meet mine. I ruffled his hair. "Stay. I'll get it. Be right back." He closed his eyes, obedient. I walked to the door and opened it. A stranger stood there. A man I'd never seen before. He wore nothing but a simple white shirt and slacks, but his face was so striking I couldn't look away. Silver-and-pink scales dusted his neck and the shell of his ear. Tiny pearls hung from his lobes. Translucent fins edged the tips. He smiled—and it was like cherry blossoms blooming by a hot spring. Like sun-dappled waves on the sea. I stared at him, lost. "May I... help you?" A faint ripple crossed his features, but he kept his composure. He tilted his head and leaned in close. His breath carried the scent of white flowers. His voice came like pearls falling on a tray. "My name is Orion. I'm the mermaid you ordered." I blinked, confused. "Mermaid...?" I repeated slowly. "But the mermaid I ordered already arrived." "There must have been a mistake somewhere." Orion's lips curved gently. He lifted his wrist to show me a braided cord. A nameplate hung from it. His name. The shop's name. The same shop I'd ordered from. I was completely lost. "But—" But if he was my mermaid, then what was Twelve? Orion looked at me with concern. "Miss? Are you alright?" He reached out, as if to check on me. His hand stopped midair. A heavy shadow fell over me from behind. Twelve stood at my back, his voice low and dark. "Miss. Who is he?"