Bad Cop, Good Beast

Chapter 1 Where the Hell Am I?!

On her twenty-third birthday, Ainsley Ashwood stood at the edge of her company's rooftop.

Her eyes were hollow, and tear tracks streaked her cheeks. With the city yawning below her, she stepped off without hesitation.

Terror hit her the instant she fell. She squeezed her eyes shut.

Three seconds. Five. Ten.

She was still falling. Wind roared past her ears, loud enough to drown out every thought.

Time stretched until it stopped making sense. 'Does it really take this long to hit the street?' she wondered, her mind fogged with panic.

When the fall dragged on past every possible explanation, the sheer absurdity of it finally snapped her awake. 'Wait. Nobody free-falls for a whole minute.'

She forced her eyes open.

The fear of hitting the pavement vanished at once, replaced by something far worse.

Her office tower was gone. The neighboring skyscrapers were gone. The packed blocks of apartment buildings, the traffic, the streets she knew, all of it had disappeared.

An impossibly bright blue sky filled her vision, so vivid it almost looked fake.

Far below, a strange metropolis rushed into focus. From this height, it looked like a giant city made of oversized toy blocks, all clean edges, bold colors, and impossible proportions.

The sight made no sense. None of it did.

Ainsley's despair surged up harder than before."Where the actual hell am I?!" she screamed. "Somebody help me! I take it back! I never want to jump off a building again!"

The next second, the fall stopped.

She slammed into a firm, incredibly warm embrace.

The arms around her were solid, but there was something soft about them too, like thick feathers layered over muscle.

The force of her drop should have crushed her, but whoever had caught her shifted with it perfectly, absorbing the impact.

Now the only thing pounding was her own heart, hammering like it wanted out of her chest.

"You okay there, little one?" a gentle male voice rumbled above her.

He sounded genuinely concerned. Maybe a little curious too.

Still shaking from the shock, Ainsley answered on autopilot. "Thank you. Oh my God, thank you. I'm alive."

The moment she said it, something in her brain screamed that this was very, very wrong.

The wind was still whipping against her cheeks. Wisps of cloud drifted past.

Every hair on her body stood on end.

Stiffly, painfully slowly, Ainsley turned her head and looked down.

The ground was still impossibly far away. The city below looked like a model in a downtown planning office, tiny streets, tiny buildings, tiny moving dots that might have been cars.

Ice flooded her veins. Inch by inch, she lifted her head again.

Her eyes first caught a sharply cut jaw. Then a pair of pressed lips, a straight nose, and finally a pair of amber eyes looking down at her.

They were stunning. Except the pupils were vertical slits.

His face was almost unfairly handsome, but that was not what made Ainsley's blood run cold.

What did that were the fluffy appendages rising from his temples.

Each one was tipped with black plumes, unmistakably like the ear tufts of some enormous bird of prey.

'Is he a giant?' she thought, her brain completely shorting out.

Her gaze slid lower before she could stop it. Past his broad shoulders, she finally saw what was keeping them in the air.

Wings.

A pair of massive, powerful wings spread out on either side of him, so huge they nearly swallowed her vision.

Dark brown and white feathers layered across them in dense, glossy rows.

They beat steadily against the open sky, each stroke stirring a rhythmic rush of air that battered her tiny body.

"Wings?!" Ainsley shrieked, her voice cracking into a pitch high enough to hurt.

The avian holding her jolted at her outburst. His wingbeats faltered for half a second.

"Whoa, easy there, little one," he said, tightening his hold. "What exactly are you?"

He tilted his head, eyes narrowing with open confusion.

He looked like he had just found some strange, pocket-sized creature in the middle of the street and could not decide whether it was lost, sick, or just plain weird.

To him, the thing that had fallen out of the sky was beyond strange.

She had no visible animal ears, horns, or antennae. No scales, no tail, no gills.

She was ridiculously small, even smaller than the plush toys most Beastkin cubs dragged around by the paw.

Worse, she looked so fragile that one careless squeeze might snap her in two.

He had never seen any mammal, bird, or anything else like her in his life.

He mused, 'Could she be...'

"What exactly am I?" That single question hit the last frayed nerve in Ainsley's exhausted brain. "What the literal hell?!"

Then she completely lost it. She thrashed, kicked, twisted, and clawed with no thought for her own safety.

All she knew was that she had to get away. Away from the dizzying height. Away from this giant stranger. Away from whatever nightmare she had fallen into.

"Hey! Stop squirming!" the avian shouted, struggling to keep his grip. "It's not safe up here!"

But her panic had already taken over. For one tiny fraction of a second, the arms around her loosened.

Only a fraction. It was enough.

The terrifying sensation of free-fall swallowed her all over again.

The sky, along with those shocked amber slit-pupiled eyes, shot away from her.

Below, the city rushed up hard and fast. Streets stretched into a neat grid. Blocky buildings rose between them, and tiny moving specks streamed along the roads.

"Oh my God, no, no, no!" Ainsley screamed.

The wind ripped her voice apart before it could go anywhere.

She could see the pavement now, and it was getting closer by the heartbeat.

Bright-colored cars rolled through the avenues in tidy lines.

Even from this height, they looked absurdly huge.

Traffic lights blinked at an intersection below.

She could even make out a massive, broad-shouldered figure in a neon green safety vest directing traffic with a baton.

Ainsley braced herself for the impact that would shatter every bone in her body. She squeezed her eyes shut.

Then a dark brown shadow dropped through the air at terrifying speed.

It swept under her with perfect timing. Strong arms caught her again, locking around her securely.

A smooth deceleration followed, then a gentle lift, and at last her feet touched solid sidewalk.

The concrete beneath her felt brutally hard and impossibly wide. The cracks between the paving stones looked like trenches.

Her nerves, stretched far past their limit, finally snapped. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed straight onto the ground.

Tremors tore through her as she curled into a tight ball, pitifully small and helpless on the vast stretch of sidewalk.

"Whew. That was way too close," the winged man muttered as he landed beside her.

His enormous wings folded neatly against his back, casting a shadow that swallowed her completely.

He let out a relieved breath, then pulled out a rectangular device.

In his hand, it looked compact. To Ainsley, it was practically the size of a tablet.

He tapped the screen a few times and spoke into it.

"Dispatch? This is Captain Zephyr Cloudwing, Aerial Patrol Unit Two," he reported. "I've got an unidentified mammal at the intersection of Onion Street and 34th, directly under the traffic light.

"Subject is extremely small and highly distressed. She fell out of open air and almost went splat on the pavement. Requesting backup."

A calm, crisp voice crackled through the comms. "Copy that, Captain. Location confirmed. Onion Street and 34th, under the light. Secure the perimeter. Backup is en route."

Zephyr clipped the device back into place and looked down at Ainsley.

She was slumped on the ground, shivering like a discarded ragdoll.

His brow furrowed, but he stayed where he was. He did not dare move closer.

Any sudden motion might scare the fragile little creature into another panic.

Ainsley's mind was buzzing with pure static, but some stubborn scrap of survival instinct forced her to look around.

The glass-fronted skyscrapers reflecting the afternoon sun looked normal.

The wide asphalt roads, painted with crisp white and yellow lane markers, looked normal.

The traffic light overhead, ticking from green to yellow, looked normal.

Even the traffic officer in the middle of the street, wearing a neon vest and holding a baton, looked normal.

'Wait.' Ainsley's eyes widened.

On top of the traffic officer's head stood a pair of glossy, twitching horse ears.

'Maybe they're fake,' she told herself, laughing weakly inside her own head. 'Maybe they're just some weird uniform thing.'

The moment she stared, the ears swiveled sharply in her direction.

Ainsley's eyes flew wide. Panic seized her all over again. She whipped her gaze across the street.

Pedestrians hurried past, walking upright in ordinary modern clothes. At first glance, everything looked almost normal.

But under that thin layer of familiarity, the details were wrong. Terribly wrong. And everyone was huge.

An elegant woman in a tailored skirt suit strode by with a leather briefcase in one hand.

Behind her swayed a thick raccoon tail, dark rings banding its length. It was as long as Ainsley's entire torso.

At a sidewalk café on the corner, a man in a casual button-down sipped coffee from a paper cup.

His rolled-up sleeves revealed forearms covered in smooth teal scales that gleamed coldly in the sun. Even seated, he towered over her.

A few laughing kids chased one another past the curb, each of them easily twice Ainsley's size.

One boy had fluffy triangular ears poking through his hair, while a little girl trailed a slender tail tipped with a white tuft.

A transit bus sighed to a stop at the curb and let off an elderly woman with a cane.

Reading glasses sat low on her snout, and two dark brown antelope horns curved gracefully from her forehead.

Wings. Ears. Scales. Tails. Horns... They were everywhere, all attached to towering, heavy-built bodies that moved as if this were the most natural thing in the world.

It was like the whole animal kingdom had been folded seamlessly into oversized humanoid forms, bizarre and impossible, yet treated by everyone around her as perfectly ordinary.

"What the actual fuck?" Ainsley screamed, clutching her head. "Where am I?"

The impossible scene finally broke something in her. She let out a full-blown, hysterical shriek.

Against the roaring traffic, the wind, and the booming chatter of the giants passing by, her voice sounded thin and tiny.

Strangely, her panic barely caused a scene.

No one screamed. No one rushed over. No one crowded around to gawk.

The citizens only paused, glanced down at the source of the noise, and went right back to their day.

Their steps became a little more careful.

A few of them flicked cautious side-eyes toward her, as if making sure they did not accidentally step on something small and inconvenient.

That exaggerated normalcy made it worse. So did the way they kept looking down at her, literally and otherwise. It made the whole thing feel a hundred times creepier.

Only Zephyr, the avian officer standing beside her, startled hard enough to hop half a step back. The feathers along his edges puffed up in alarm.

He grabbed for his comms again and barked into the device, "Subject is unstable and screaming. Get that backup here now!"

A few sharp, booming barks answered from down the block.

They were getting closer. Fast.

Ainsley peered through her tear-blurred vision and saw three unbelievably massive, muscular dogs charging toward them.

They wore tactical SWAT vests and sprinted on all fours with terrifying speed.

The one in front had a sleek black coat and a gaze sharp enough to cut glass.

"Giant doggies?" Ainsley mumbled, dazed, her jaw hanging open.

Shock rolled over her in wave after wave until her brain felt like it had completely flatlined.

The creatures barreling toward her were not just dogs. They were beasts.

The K-9 unit moved with insane speed, swallowing impossible distances with every stride.

In the blink of an eye, they were right on top of her.

Ainsley braced herself for the tackle, already picturing the impact, but then the impossible happened.

Mid-stride, their bodies stretched and shifted. Bones popped and snapped in a rapid, brutal sequence.

Within three steps, the beasts rose from feral runners into upright figures.

Three towering officers now stood in front of her, built like armored trucks on legs.

Their black tactical uniforms fit with military precision, and polished rank pins gleamed at their shoulders.

The only clear trace of their animal forms remained on top of their heads: alert, fuzzy canine ears.

The officer in front had pitch-black ears and a cold, assessing stare.

His gaze swept the scene with trained efficiency.

When it landed on Ainsley, she felt as if she had just been pinned under the spotlight of a police chopper.

"Captain Grimm, that's her," Zephyr said, pointing one feathered finger at Ainsley.

Ainsley was still sprawled on the concrete. Next to those hulking officers, she looked like a misplaced action figure someone had dropped on the sidewalk.

Captain Grimm studied her with sharp, unreadable eyes.

He did not step closer. Instead, he gave a curt nod to the two officers beside him.

The tan-eared and gray-eared officers immediately dropped back onto all fours.

Their huge bodies cast heavy shadows over Ainsley as they began what could only be described as an olfactory pat-down.

They worked fast, with practiced precision. As they leaned in, Ainsley could see the wet shine of their noses and the quick flare of their nostrils.

The tan-eared officer even nudged a tiny fiber from the cuff of her jacket with incredible care.

He lifted it to his snout and analyzed the scent with terrifying focus.

The entire inspection lasted only a few seconds.

Both officers snapped upright and saluted.

"Captain, positive ID!" the tan-eared officer barked, his voice booming over the street. "Compound scent profile matches.

"Residual surface pheromones match. Preliminary microbiome scan checks out.

"Target confirmed as a Pedigree Human. Probability is over ninety-nine percent. Also, the subject's body size is highly abnormal. She qualifies as a micro-specimen."

"What? A Pedigree Human?" someone in the crowd gasped. "And she's that tiny?"

The words hit the avenue like a siren.

In an instant, the street came to a dead stop. Pedestrians of every shape and size froze where they stood.

Cat ears, rabbit ears, fox tails, deer antlers, scaled arms, stubby wings, every head turned at once.

Stares poured down from above, packed with shock, disbelief, raw curiosity, and a kind of burning intensity Ainsley did not know how to read.

It felt as if every spotlight in a theater had swung toward the patch of pavement where she sat.

Under all those eyes, she looked impossibly small, fragile, and completely furless.

For two long seconds, the street was silent enough to hear a pin drop.

Then the crowd lost it.

It was not the panic, disgust, or aggression Ainsley had expected.

Instead, pure ecstatic curiosity exploded around her.

The towering citizens surged in from every direction, though they instinctively kept a polite distance of about ten feet.

To Ainsley, it felt like being trapped at the bottom of a crater made of giants.

They formed a huge ring around her and the officers, leaning in with shining eyes.

"Oh my gosh, is she real?" a young woman squealed, clutching a paper grocery bag to her chest.

Her long bunny ears quivered wildly above her head. "A living, breathing, totally unmodded Pedigree Human! And she's so freaking tiny!"

She crouched to get a better look, but even squatting, she still towered over Ainsley.

"Oh, bless her heart. Look at this little sweetheart. Isn't she precious?" an elderly lady cooed.

She was dressed to perfection, with a dazzling fan of peafowl feathers trailing behind her. She tried to shuffle closer, but Captain Grimm calmly blocked her with one arm.

The old lady did not seem offended.

She simply rose onto her toes and craned her neck, gazing at Ainsley with full maternal awe. "Look at that skin. Not a bit of fuzz on her. And that tiny face! Why, it's barely the size of my palm.

"Who lost their little human?" a middle-aged Beastkin grumbled.

A heavy tortoise shell domed over his back, and his face was set in a severe frown. "Where's her Guardian? This is completely unacceptable.

"You don't let a fragile, defenseless little thing wander around by herself. That's a major public safety hazard. One wrong step and she could get flattened by a stray paw."

His tone was gruff, but his eyes were filled with concern. He leaned his massive body forward, as if he could shield Ainsley with his shell.

"Hey there, sweetie. Don't freak out. You're safe now," murmured a female Beastkin with faint whisker marks on her cheeks.

She lowered herself almost flat against the concrete, trying to meet Ainsley at eye level.

Her voice was soft, sweet, and carefully soothing.

Behind her, a slim feline tail thumped anxiously against the ground, kicking up tiny puffs of dust near Ainsley's shoes.

"Um, could I maybe touch your hair? Just a tiny bit?" she asked, so careful it almost sounded reverent. "I swear I'll be super, super gentle. You're not gonna get mad and bite, right?"

She held one slender, padded finger in the air.

To Ainsley, that single finger looked dangerously heavy, hovering above her like a pendulum that had not decided whether to fall.

A wave of chatter crashed in from all sides. It was deafening, but strangely, not threatening.

There was no hostility in the air. Only wonder, concern, and a fierce instinct to protect. Voices rained down from above.

"She looks really pale. Is she in shock? Does she need oxygen? Would one of our masks even fit her little face?"

"I've got a travel flask!" another voice called. "It's spring water. The straw might be too big for her, though."

"Has anyone called dispatch?" a deep voice demanded. "We need the Endangered Species Protection Agency out here now.

"And tell them to send specialized transport. She'll slip right out of a standard cruiser seat."

"No way," a bystander breathed. "This is a bucket-list moment. I'm looking at a textbook Pedigree Human in the flesh. She's basically a teacup breed."

Ainsley sat numb on the cold concrete. The sidewalk suddenly felt as wide as an airport runway.

She had to crane her neck just to look up at the strange towering faces above her.

Concern, excitement, and disbelief covered every one of them, framed by every kind of animal feature imaginable.

Their words shattered every piece of common sense she had built over the last twenty years. They kept fixating on her size, calling her tiny, fragile, precious.

The more they talked, the more her brain seemed to short-circuit. There was nothing left in her head except screaming question marks and a wash of static.

Ainsley swallowed hard as her thoughts spun out of control. 'Where am I?

'Did I fall into another dimension? Is this some insane fever dream? Or did I actually die, and this is what comes after?

'Beastkin. Are they really Beastkin? And if they are, then what exactly am I in this world?'

She looked around at the massive crowd, taking in their impossible size, their words, their tone, and the way they kept staring at her as if she were an infant dropped into a city of giants.

Somehow, she had become something that needed protecting. Something rare. Something that drew every eye the moment it appeared.

She took a shaky breath. 'So what am I now? Some rare little pocket pet? Something tiny, breakable, and apparently in need of round-the-clock supervision?

'Or worse, am I some kind of novelty creature they're supposed to fuss over and carry around?'

Chapter 2 Why Am I Drooling?

Ainsley Ashwood was beginning to think she had officially lost it.

Completely. Spectacularly. No chance of recovery.

Everything around her felt like a fever dream that had gone off the rails.

Furry ears twitched at the edges of her vision. She saw short feline ears, sharp wolf ears, floppy canine ears, and, here and there, sleek fin-like appendages covered in fine scales.

Tails swept through the air in every direction: plush fox tails, slim cat tails, thick bovine tails, and even a scorpion tail that caught the light with a cold metallic gleam.

A few beastfolk in the crowd had iridescent scales along their necks, arms, or cheekbones.

None of that was the worst part. The worst part was the staring.

Dozens of eyes were fixed on her. The crowd murmured in low, excited voices, thick with curiosity, awe, and a strange protective concern that made no sense to her at all.

The sound blurred together until it pressed against her skull like static.

Ainsley opened her mouth. She wanted to scream. She wanted to demand what the hell was happening.

Nothing came out. Her throat had locked up. Her mouth felt dry enough to crack, and every word died before it reached her tongue.

She could only stand there, shaking, sweat soaking into her thin shirt.

In front of these towering bodies, she felt smaller by the second.

Then the shadow over her shifted.

The dark-eared officer standing in front of her had only one word attached to him in Ainsley's panicked brain: Doberman.

He was tall, lean, and severe, with the kind of quiet menace that made people instinctively clear a path. His presence alone seemed to swallow the space around him.

The Doberman officer looked down at her for several long seconds.

His deep brown eyes, marked by narrow vertical pupils under the harsh light, moved over her with sharp, professional focus.

He looked like a highly trained working dog assessing a lost child, a potential threat, and a crime scene all at once.

Then he made a decision.

He lowered himself onto one knee in a smooth, controlled motion. Even kneeling, he was still so large that Ainsley had to tilt her head back to look at him.

One arm slid under her knees. The other braced her back. Before she could react, he lifted her. Effortlessly.

Ainsley went limp in his arms, too stunned to resist. Standing, she barely reached past his knees. Carried against his chest, she felt absurdly light, like a stray kitten scooped out of traffic.

His movements were crisp and professional, but there was unmistakable care beneath them.

He handled her as if one careless squeeze might bruise her.

"Show's over, folks. Keep moving," he said.

His voice was not loud, but it carried. Low, steady, and commanding, it rolled across the sidewalk like a trained K-9's warning growl.

The crowd quieted almost instantly. Several onlookers took a half-step back, though their eyes stayed fixed on the tiny human in his arms.

"Phil," the captain said, turning to a bright-faced officer with floppy golden-brown ears. "Standard procedure.

"Upload her bio-data and image to the intercity Lost and Found registry. Run a priority check for any recently filed missing-human reports."

"You got it, Captain Grimm!" Phil Golden answered.

Phil snapped upright so fast his ears bounced. His fluffy tail gave one eager wag before he strode over in a few long steps and leaned straight into Ainsley's personal space.

Cradled in Captain Grimm's arms, Ainsley realized her eye level barely reached Phil's chin.

His face was open, handsome, and painfully curious, with the high-energy excitement of a cop who had just landed the weirdest case of the week.

Then he switched into full professional mode. Phil lowered his large head, casting a shadow over Ainsley's face.

His muzzle moved close to the side of her neck, and his nostrils flared as he took several careful sniffs.

"Hm. Logging baseline scent profile," Phil muttered. "No common cosmetic fragrance. No household detergent markers. Very raw biological signature."

After finishing his scent check, Phil lifted his head and gave her a wide, toothy grin.

It was probably meant to be friendly. To Ainsley, it looked like a giant predator showing off every tooth in his mouth.

Her eyes went wide. Then Phil stuck out his tongue. It was warm, pink, wet, and wider than her entire hand.

Before she could process what was happening, he gave the back of her hand one quick lick.

The rough, damp texture shot through her like an electric shock.

"Ah!" Ainsley yanked her hand back with every bit of strength she had left and clutched it to her chest.

At the same time, both arms flew around Silas's neck and locked there.

She buried her face against the crisp fabric near his shoulder, curling into herself like a terrified animal trying to vanish.

Captain Grimm smelled clean and warm, with the faint, sun-heated scent of healthy fur beneath the sharper smell of police-issue fabric.

More importantly, he was solid. Unmoving. Steady in a way nothing else in this impossible world seemed to be.

It made no sense, but in that moment, the stern Doberman captain felt like the safest thing around.

Her sudden grab made him go still for half a second.

Then something shifted in his dark canine eyes. It was tiny, almost impossible to catch.

Satisfaction, maybe. Or the quiet pleasure of having his assessment confirmed.

He adjusted his hold beneath her thighs, drawing her a little more securely against his chest. His chin lifted by the smallest degree.

"Oh, come on. Seriously?" Phil complained, staring at Ainsley as she hid against Captain Grimm.

His ears twitched, and his tail thumped the pavement in quick, annoyed sweeps. "I was doing a standard preliminary scent marker and affinity check.

"Totally by the book. Why is she hiding? I barely touched her."

Mula Snowpaw burst out laughing. He was a huge gray-and-white beastkin with the broad build and easy grin of a Malamute.

His laugh was loud, warm, and absolutely merciless. "Give it up, man. You've got no game with the little ones. Your affinity score has to be in the basement.

"Look at her. You scared the poor thing into a full-on panic ball."

"Shut up, Mula," Phil snapped, his ears flattening as he bared his teeth.

"That's enough," Captain Grimm said. "We're on duty. Act like it."

His voice dropped back into its usual hard, controlled register, and both officers straightened at once.

He turned slightly toward the avian beastkin standing nearby, whose broad wings were folded neatly against his back. "Captain Cloudwing, I'll need you to come to the precinct and file a full witness and rescue report."

Zephyr nodded quickly, running a hand through his wind-tossed hair. "Of course. That was way too close. If I hadn't caught her at that altitude, I don't even want to think about it."

He exhaled, still shaken. "I need to file an anomalous aerial event report with my division anyway."

*****

On the ride back to the Verdant City Police Department, Ainsley kept her face pressed against Captain Grimm's neck for most of the trip.

It was warm there. Quiet. Safe enough, at least compared with everything else.

Now and then, she dared to peek through the gap between her arms, watching the city with a mix of fear and stunned fascination.

Verdant City looked modern, clean, and almost aggressively organized. Wide streets cut between glassy high-rises that flashed in the afternoon sun.

Traffic moved in neat streams below. Some vehicles looked like standard city cars and service vans, while others had been clearly redesigned for tails, horns, wings, or bodies far larger than a human's.

Above the street, winged beastkin moved along marked aerial lanes, passing traffic lights suspended high between buildings.

They flew in orderly patterns, changing altitude the way drivers changed lanes.

Everything about the city suggested a civilization that knew exactly how to run itself.

And every citizen she saw had animal traits. Ears. Tails. Fur. Scales. Horns. Wings. Claws.

Even the smaller ones were taller than her.

The scale of the world made her dizzy. She felt like she had been dropped into a city built for everyone except her.

At a crosswalk, while they waited for the light to change, Ainsley spotted a man across the street. He had no tail, no animal ears, and no scales on his skin.

Her heart kicked hard against her ribs. 'Is he human? Wait. Then why is he so tall? He doesn't have any beastkin traits at all.

Captain Grimm seemed to notice the sudden tension in her body. His low voice rumbled above her head. "He isn't full-blooded beastkin."

Ainsley blinked and leaned back just enough to look up at him. 'Not full-blooded? Hold on. Beastkin can crossbreed?'

That one sentence dropped her straight into an even deeper pit of confusion.

*****

The Verdant City Police Department was a lot busier than Ainsley had expected.

Actually, it was complete chaos.

Captain Grimm carried her through the automatic glass doors and into the bright, cavernous main lobby. Phones rang. Voices overlapped. Boots thudded across polished tile.

Then, the second they came in, every sound seemed to die at once. The whole bullpen went dead silent.

Every head turned toward them. Every stare landed on the tiny figure curled against Captain Grimm's chest.

Next to the towering officers filling the room, Ainsley looked almost unreal.

Then the silence broke.

"Captain Grimm's back!" a badger officer shouted from his desk. "And that's her? Holy crap, she's real. Dispatch wasn't messing with us."

"Where? Let me see!" A spotted hyena stretched his neck over a cubicle wall. "No way. That's an actual living, breathing pedigree human?"

"Oh my God, look at her," a cheetah murmured. "She's in the Captain's arms. She's so freaking tiny. She looks way more delicate than humans do in movies."

"Confirmed baseline morphology," said a spectacled bear, tapping his pen against a file. His tone was cool and clinical. "No visible beastkin traits. Skin texture appears unusually fine. Bone structure looks extremely light."

Whispers and excited chatter spread through the room.

Officers with canine ears, feline tails, antlers, horns, and sharp predator eyes stopped whatever they were doing.

Desk officers leaned away from their monitors. Field officers paused in the middle of the walkway. Everyone tried to get a better look.

Their attention pressed in on Ainsley from all sides.

There was curiosity in those stares. Professional interest, too. But underneath it all was something Ainsley was already starting to recognize, and it made her skin prickle. Delight.

Not ordinary delight, either. It was intense, almost feverish, and wrapped in an overwhelming urge to protect.

They were looking at her like she was some priceless exhibit behind museum glass. Worse, like a newborn cub that needed to be watched every second.

Captain Grimm did not react. He carried her across the lobby with steady, unhurried steps, keeping one arm braced around her back.

Someone had already dragged over an oversized office chair. They had even covered the seat with a thick gray cushion, so plush it looked like it belonged in a luxury pet bed.

With smooth, practiced care, Captain Grimm set Ainsley down.

The moment her shoes touched the floor, a wall of beastkin officers closed in around her. She did not even have time to sit up properly.

Most of them were in full uniform, but all professional restraint had clearly been thrown out the window.

Because of the height difference, they had to bend down to look at her.

Ears twitched. Tails swayed. A few officers looked like they were one bad decision away from reaching out to poke her.

"What an incredible little thing," a female officer with bright red fox ears whispered to her partner, eyes shining. "That straight blonde hair, those blue eyes, that face shape.

"She's much softer-looking than the humans you see on TV. And she's tiny."

"Let me get a scent read," a male officer said eagerly.

His nose shifted into a wet black canine snout. He leaned over Ainsley, careful not to get too close, and took several deep sniffs. His expression changed from fascination to confusion.

"That's weird," he muttered. "Very faint baseline scent. Almost no aggression markers. No territorial signature, either.

"But there's something old in it. Clean, but old. I'm not getting a match in any major species profile."

'Wait. What?' Ainsley thought, staring at him.

"What does she eat?" An older man in a spotless white apron pushed to the front.

He had curled ram horns and the worried face of someone who had fed an entire police department for years and now faced the first dietary crisis of his career.

"Her nutritional needs must be completely different from ours," he added. "She might need specialized primate formula. Or soft human-safe meal packs.

"I heard pedigree human digestion is extremely sensitive. Half of what we serve in the cafeteria could make her sick."

'Primate formula? Human-safe meal packs?' The words hit Ainsley hard enough to clear some of the fog from her head.

She stared up at the crowd around her. They were talking about her right in front of her. Their concern sounded real, but that almost made it worse.

They were discussing her like she belonged to a different category of life. Like she was fragile equipment that needed careful handling and a maintenance guide.

The thought settled coldly in her mind. 'In a world run by beastkin, what exactly is a human like me?

'A living antique? A rare biological oddity? Some high-maintenance exotic pet? And apparently, the smallest and breakable kind.'

Her nose stung. Her eyes blurred before she could stop them.

This time, it was not only fear. It was the absurdity of it all. The loneliness. The terrible feeling of standing in the middle of a world where everyone could see her, yet no one seemed to understand she was a person.

But just as the tears were about to fall, her gaze drifted over the officers around her.

Captain Grimm, the Doberman, stood near the edge of the crowd with his arms crossed. His posture was perfect.

His black, pointed ears stood alert, and his sharp profile made him look even more imposing under the lobby lights.

Phil Golden, the Golden Retriever, still looked a little offended after being rejected earlier. Even so, his bright, handsome face was now full of boyish curiosity.

Mula Snowpaw, the Alaskan Malamute, gave her a confident grin. He was broad and solid, with ash-blond hair, strong features, and piercing ice-blue eyes.

There was also the stunning fox officer and the sweet-looking ram chef.

Farther back, near the front desk and the hallway, stood even more officers. Tall, lean, striking officers in crisp uniforms.

Some had sleek feline ears. Others had wild spotted markings or sharp predator eyes.

The tragic mood in Ainsley's head collapsed on the spot.

'What the hell is this?' She blinked through her tears.

There was a broad-shouldered Doberman who gave off rich, overprotective CEO energy.

A Golden Retriever jock who smiled like he had personally been powered by the sun.

An ash-blond, blue-eyed Malamute who looked cold and arrogant enough to ruin someone's life and make them thank him for it.

One tear slipped down her cheek.

A completely inappropriate thought pushed its way into her brain. 'Okay, seriously. Why is everyone at the VCPD so ridiculously hot?

'This average should be illegal. They have every type on the roster, and they're all beastkin.'

She had never seen this many insanely attractive people in one place. It was like someone had taken every Hollywood leading man, upgraded him, and handed him ears and a tail.

'No. Stop it. Get it together, Ainsley.' She sniffled, horrified by herself. 'Look at your life right now. What is wrong with your brain?'

She was absolutely losing it at the worst possible time. Still, the shallow little observation helped. Barely.

It gave her something stupid to focus on, and that tiny distraction thinned out the panic pressing against her lungs.

So she kept looking. 'Okay. Fox lady. Ram chef. The guy who did the nose thing is probably some kind of Lab.

'And that officer over there with the perfect face markings and bright eyes. Tuxedo cat? Maybe?'

While her mental animal encyclopedia struggled to keep up with reality, a calm female voice came from the edge of the crowd. "Captain Grimm, I got the alert."

The officers immediately stepped aside.

A female beastkin officer walked through the opening.

She wore a tailored dark tactical shirt and crisp slacks. Her stride was steady and confident.

She had soft, elegant features, warm sun-kissed skin, and long hair pulled into a neat, practical bun.

The only obvious signs that she was not human were the smooth light-brown horns curving back from her head and the slender tail behind her, tipped with a small tuft of white fur.

Ainsley could not place her species. Antelope, maybe, though the horns were finer and more graceful than anything she recognized.

"I'll take it from here," the woman said, nodding to Captain Grimm.

Then she turned to Ainsley, who was still huddled on the chair.

Her expression softened. She crouched slightly, bringing herself closer to Ainsley's eye level.

"Don't be scared, sweetheart," she said gently. "I'm Officer Ella Addax, the precinct coordinator for Special Sapient Species Affairs.

"We need to get you through some basic registration paperwork and a routine medical check. It's standard protocol, and it's for your safety.

"Can you work with me on that? I promise, no one here is going to hurt you."

Her voice was smooth and even. She did not sound overly excited, and she did not sound cold. Compared with the frantic crowd around them, she was almost shockingly normal.

Ainsley looked at her. The wire-tight tension in her chest loosened by a fraction.

She sniffled, wiped her face with the back of her hand, and gave a small nod.

Then she placed both hands on the cushioned armrests and tried to push herself up.

Being carried around like a sack of laundry was humiliating. It made the terrible feeling worse, the feeling that she had been reduced to an object.

'I am an adult woman, damn it,' she thought. 'Tiny or not, I have two working legs.'

The moment her shoes tapped the tile, Ella moved.

Before Ainsley could straighten her knees or find her balance, Ella bent down and lifted her into her arms as if she weighed nothing.

"Wait! No, hold on!" Ainsley yelped, panic flashing through her. Her legs kicked out on instinct. "I can walk! Put me down!"

Her face went hot.

'What is wrong with these people? Do they think my legs are broken?' Being scooped up like an infant sent a fresh wave of humiliation crashing through her.

Ella froze at the sudden struggle. The elegant horns on her head gave a tiny wobble as she tilted her head.

For one brief second, genuine hurt crossed her face, as if Ainsley had rejected something perfectly natural.

Then that softness disappeared.

"Nope," Ella said firmly.

She adjusted her hold with effortless confidence, securing Ainsley against her chest so she could not slip. Then she started down a corridor off the main lobby.

Her tone stayed sweet, but there was no room for negotiation. "The floor is too cold. And you don't know the layout. The lighting, the equipment, the foot traffic.

"If you trip, hit your head, or get startled, you could get hurt. Your vitals and emotional state are all over the place right now, so you need proper handling.

"Be a good girl. Stop squirming, and please don't smack me."

The last words were practically cooed. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Ella dipped her head and rubbed her smooth cheek against the top of Ainsley's hair.

The gesture was gentle, practiced, and wildly intimate. It overflowed with maternal instinct.

Ella was soothing her like a frightened little animal that needed to be held for its own good.

'I am so screwed,' Ainsley thought, going rigid.

A heavy wave of defeat sank through her.

Resistance had failed. Communication had failed. She had officially become cargo, with no say in how she moved from one room to another.

Pinned against Ella's chest, all Ainsley could see were uniform belts, dark slacks, and tactical boots as they passed through the crowd.

The bullpen noise faded behind them. At last, the walls blocked out the hungry, curious stares.

Ainsley strained her neck and managed to look over Ella's shoulder.

Captain Grimm was still standing exactly where they had left him.

He looked as solid as a concrete wall, black ears alert, dark eyes following them through the lobby lights. His face gave nothing away.

From where he stood, with Ainsley tucked helplessly in Ella's arms, she probably looked like a sad little mascot.

A sudden impulse rose in her throat. Maybe it came from the fact that Captain Grimm had been the first person to feel like a lifeline.

Maybe she was desperate to believe that this stern, terrifying captain might respect her right to walk on her own.

After all, he was the only one who had not tried to sniff her, cuddle her, or rub his face against her hair.

Or maybe, in the middle of a full-blown panic spiral, his unfairly handsome face simply looked like safety.

Just before Ella carried her around the corner, Ainsley threw one arm out. She reached for Captain Grimm.

It was not dramatic. It was not even useful. It was a small, frantic, helpless gesture, like someone drowning and reaching for the last thing still above water.

Her fingers opened and closed in the empty air. She caught nothing.

But right before the door cut off her view, Captain Grimm's sharp Doberman eyes seemed to shift. For one split second, his gaze locked onto her outstretched hand.

Then the door clicked shut.

The bright lobby disappeared, replaced by the softer artificial light of the room beyond.

The heavy door sealed away the noise of the bullpen. It also sealed away the tall, black-clad figure standing on the other side.

As the lock gave a quiet click, Ainsley felt her heart drop.

Chapter 3 I'm a Human

Ella carried Ainsley down a brightly lit hallway, one steady hand supporting the little girl's bottom while the other protected her back.

Tucked against Ella's chest, Ainsley was so small that her whole body barely reached from the bend of the officer's elbow to just below her ribs.

The inside of the Verdant City Police Department was far bigger and sleeker than Ainsley had expected.

High archways, wide corridors, and officers moving in every direction made the place feel overwhelming, as if the entire world had been built on the wrong scale.

If she ignored the twitching ears, swishing tails, sky-high doorframes, and furniture large enough for giants, it almost felt familiar.

They stopped outside a heavy metal door.

The handle sat at the perfect height for Ella, but Ainsley would have needed to stand on tiptoe and stretch her arm as far as it could go just to reach it.

Ella swiped her keycard, turned sideways, and carried her tiny passenger inside. The door closed behind them with a soft, solid click.

The first thing Ainsley saw made her blood run cold.

The room was huge, with a ceiling so high it felt less like an interview room and more like a small gym.

In the center of the floor sat a massive cubic cage, bolted down and welded together from silver metal bars as thick as a football player's arm.

It was ridiculously oversized. From where Ainsley sat, she guessed it could probably hold three or four adult elephants without much trouble.

The gaps between the bars looked narrow to her, more like a metal picket fence than a cage. She doubted she could even squeeze her head through them.

The dull, matte metal gave the whole thing a cold, crushing presence.

And that was not even the worst part.

Mounted along one wall was a neat but terrifying lineup of equipment that looked like something from a veterinary clinic, a wildlife rescue center, and a police armory all mashed together and scaled up into a nightmare.

There were complicated muzzles made of thick leather and heavy metal buckles, and even the smallest one looked big enough to swallow her entire upper body.

Bright plastic recovery cones hung in rows nearby, their openings nearly as wide as she was tall.

Beside them sat several heavy-duty restraint collars fitted with electrode pads and thick wires, each with warning lights about the size of her fists.

Ainsley could only guess they were industrial-grade shock collars.

The air smelled faintly of harsh disinfectant, cold metal, and treated leather. The room did not feel like it had been built for citizens.

It felt like it had been built to contain something enormous, dangerous, and very hard to reason with.

"Am I... am I going in there?" Ainsley stammered. Her voice shook as her fingers dug into the rough fabric of Ella's uniform shirt.

Panic twisted hard in her stomach as she imagined herself trapped inside the gigantic cage.

"Hm?" Ella followed her gaze, then blinked as if she needed a second to understand.

When she did, she burst into a bright, helpless laugh. "Oh, absolutely not, sweetheart. What on earth made you think that?"

Still cradling Ainsley, the antelope officer turned away from the monstrous holding cell and walked toward a padded chair near the wall.

By beastkin standards, it was just a chair. To Ainsley, the seat was so high off the floor that climbing onto it would have felt like scaling a cliff, and the tall backrest would have swallowed her whole.

Ella seemed to realize that too, because she did not put her down. Instead, she leaned in and gently nuzzled her cheek against Ainsley's face.

The movement was quick but surprisingly soft, carrying the clean, grassy scent that clung to Ella's fur and uniform.

The gesture itself, however, made every hair on Ainsley's body stand up.

It was exactly the kind of doting, possessive affection a human might give a puppy or kitten, the kind of cuddly little face-rub that said, without words, "you are too cute to be taken seriously."

Ainsley went stiff as a statue.

She forgot to blink and simply stared up at Ella's smiling eyes, then at the elegant spiral horns rising from her head, each one easily as long as Ainsley's forearm.

"Did that thing scare you?" Ella asked, straightening up and nodding toward the iron cage as casually as if it were a copy machine. "That's just a temporary holding cell for uncooperative heavy-class suspects.

"We had to put a rogue rhino in there last week. But you?"

She looked down at the impossibly tiny girl in her arms, her expression soft with open fondness. "Honey, you probably couldn't get through the bars even if you tried.

"And even if you did, you'd have enough room in there to do laps. Come on. The real exam room is through here."

She gave Ainsley's cold little hand a gentle pat and carried her toward a plain white door on the far side of the room.

When Ella pushed it open, the space beyond felt completely different.

Warm, soft light washed over beige walls. A baby-blue padded examination table stood beside a rolling cart neatly stocked with medical tools.

There was even a stainless steel sink, though Ainsley was pretty sure she would still need to stand on tiptoe and stretch just to brush the rim with her fingers.

'Everything these beastkin use is gigantic.' The thought settled heavily in her mind.

Still, the room was clean, warm, and almost cozy, as long as she did not think too hard about the strange shapes and absurd sizes of the equipment around her.

Ella crossed to the exam table and snapped on a pair of sterile gloves. They fit neatly over the antelope nurse's hoof-tipped hands, but to Ainsley, they looked absurdly huge.

"Alright, sweetie," Ella said. "Let's get your clothes off and put them in that cubby over there. It's just a routine physical."

"Okay," Ainsley mumbled automatically.

In her twenty-odd years of life, undressing for a doctor had never been strange. Awkward, maybe, but normal.

She hooked her fingers under the hem of her shirt and started to lift it.

The second the fabric brushed against her skin, a cold jolt shot down her spine. 'Wait. This isn't a hospital.

'The person telling me to strip isn't a human doctor in a lab coat. She's a Beastkin with actual antelope horns, and she's big enough to pick me up with one hand.'

Her thoughts spiraled. 'Who is she? What is she planning to do? Once I'm naked in this place, in a world where everything is built too big and I can't fight back, then what?

'An exam? What kind of exam? Are they going to use some giant pet-clinic tools on me? Is it going to hurt?

'What if they do something I don't understand and can't stop?'

"No!" Ainsley's scream tore through the room, sharp and raw with terror.

She yanked her hands away from her shirt as if the fabric had burned her and stumbled backward. Curling in on herself, she wrapped both arms tightly around her torso.

Her eyes locked on Ella, wide with fear, defiance, and tears she was barely holding back.

The sudden shriek made Ella flinch. She fumbled with her tablet and nearly dropped it.

The warm, professional smile slipped from her muzzle, replaced by startled irritation and a tight furrow between her brows.

"Well, aren't we touchy." Ella sighed.

Her tone was still patient, but now it carried the strained sweetness adults used on spoiled pets. "How am I supposed to check you if you won't take your clothes off?

"Come on, be a good girl and work with me. I just need to make sure you're not hurt and see if you have an ID chip.

"Then we can figure out who's missing their little human and get you home."

The word hit Ainsley like a slap. 'Home?'

Through tear-blurred eyes, she screamed with every bit of strength she had left. Her voice cracked, but the anger in it burned clear.

"I don't belong to anyone!" she yelled. "I'm not a pet. I'm not some thing you can poke and prod. I am a human being!"

She practically roared the last words. Cornered fury lit her up from the inside.

She had to crane her neck painfully just to meet Ella the antelope's eyes, but in that moment, she felt anything but small.

Ella clearly had not expected that kind of explosion.

Ainsley's shrill panic and furious resistance made the Beastkin take an instinctive step back. For one brief second, uncertainty flickered across her face.

It was the cautious look of a much larger mammal dealing with a tiny, frantic creature that might bite, scratch, or injure itself.

Ella pressed one hoof-tipped finger to the small comm unit in her ear and spoke in a quick, hushed voice. "Captain Grimm? Captain Grimm, could you come to Exam Room B-3? "

"The little human is extremely agitated and refusing her checkup. She also yelled at me and keeps insisting she isn't a pet."

She paused, then lowered her voice even more. "She's acting pretty aggressive. Teeth, nails, the whole thing. I'm worried she might scratch or bite me, or hurt herself."

Ainsley heard every word. She watched Ella report on her as if she were tattling on a badly behaved puppy.

A cold wave of despair washed over her. So that was it. In their eyes, her terror and anger were not reasonable.

They were not even real. They were just a tantrum. A fussy, aggressive little animal making a scene.

And against their size, their strength, and the whole system built around them, her protests meant almost nothing.

A moment later, a sharp knock sounded. Then the door opened.

A tall figure with sleek black fur and pointed ears stepped into the frame. Captain Silas Grimm.

He entered the room, and his gaze immediately dropped to the tiny, trembling human backed into the corner.

Ainsley's face was streaked with tears, but her eyes were stubborn and bright. She barely reached his knees.

After a brief look, Silas turned his attention to Ella.

"Situation?" His deep voice rolled through the sterile room, calm and unreadable.

Ella hurried to explain, "She refuses to undress for the physical, and she's panicking. She keeps insisting she isn't a pet.

"Captain Grimm, do you think she could actually be feral?"

Feral Human. In this society, the term carried weight.

It meant unregistered and unowned, a rare and sensitive status that opened the door to a mountain of paperwork, protocols, and legal review.

Silas approached, then stopped a few feet from Ainsley. For him, the distance was polite and restrained.

For her, his broad silhouette still swallowed her in shadow.

He seemed to know that coming any closer might push her over the edge.

He dipped his muzzle slightly and studied her outfit. Simple clothes, but clean. Well-made. Perfectly fitted to her tiny frame.

"Unlikely," he murmured, his tone clinical. He slowly shook his head. "She's clothed. The style is unusual, but those are clearly custom garments.

"Her skin is clean, her hair is groomed, and she appears to be in excellent condition. She doesn't look like a stray surviving outdoors.

"There's no obvious reason for her to fight a basic wellness check this hard."

He was only observing her, but his sharp stare pressed down on Ainsley like a physical weight.

Ella let out a breath of relief, though she still looked lost. "So what do we do now?" she asked. "She won't let me touch her.

"Maybe you should try. She didn't seem quite as scared of you."

Ella seemed to remember how Ainsley had clung to Silas's neck in the hallway.

"I'll step out," Ella added quickly. "Call me when she's undressed and a little calmer."

With that, Ella left the exam room almost too eagerly, clearly relieved to hand the problem over. The door clicked shut behind her.

Silence settled over the room. Ainsley was alone with the towering Doberman officer.

She had to tilt her head back just to look at him. The only sound was her own shaky breathing and the occasional soft hiccup she could not swallow down.

Silas moved to the stool beside the exam table and sat. He lowered his broad shoulders and relaxed his posture on purpose, trying to make himself look less imposing.

His eyes returned to the tiny human pressed against the wall, as if she were hoping she could disappear straight through the drywall.

"You don't need to be afraid," he said gently. "Ella is a trained human-care specialist. She only wants to examine you and make sure you're healthy, with no hidden injuries.

"We don't hurt humans. That is both law and basic public policy."

For the first time, a small piece of Ainsley's rational mind came back online.

'He's right,' she told herself. 'If they wanted to hurt me, why would they wait? With their size, they could snap me like a twig.'

She looked up at him through wet lashes. Her lips parted a few times before she finally managed to speak.

Her voice was shaky. "But I need privacy." "You're a guy. You can't seriously expect me to get naked right in front of you."

Silas stared at her. For the first time since she had met him, genuine confusion broke through his stern expression.

One of his dark, pointed ears flicked back, then angled forward again, as if even his body was trying to process what she had just said.

"Huh?" he asked. "Is that a rule?"

He tilted his head, and the gesture made his otherwise intimidating face look almost comically puzzled.

"I've never kept a human before," he admitted. "I'm not exactly up to speed on your habits."

To Silas, and to Beastkin society at large, humans were beloved companion animals. Fragile, valuable, and in constant need of care.

They were property, yes, but often cherished like family pets.

A human being naked in front of an owner or a handler carried no social embarrassment at all.

It was no different from a person taking a dog or cat to the vet. The vet's gender did not matter.

Rules about modesty, privacy, and gender boundaries applied between Beastkin. Not between Beastkin and humans.

"It is a rule!" Ainsley snapped, desperate now. "Look, I don't know how things work here, but I have boundaries. Where I'm from, this matters."

She needed him to understand. This was not a tantrum.

It was her dignity, her privacy, and the one line she absolutely could not let them cross, no matter how small she looked to him.

As he watched Ainsley's frantic display, the confusion in Silas's eyes slowly cooled into something more measured.

At first, he had dismissed the whole "feral" theory as an overreaction.

Now, though, he was starting to wonder if the tiny human really had come from some isolated community that had never caught up with the rest of the world.

'She must be from one of those off-grid human reserves,' he thought, completely misunderstanding what Ainsley had meant by "where I'm from."

Everyone knew the people from those sealed-off zones rarely understood modern Beastkin norms.

They were defensive, territorial, and fiercely protective of whatever customs they had grown up with.

"Okay," he said at last, giving a slow nod. His deep voice softened into a low, careful rumble. "I hear you.

"You're from somewhere that does things differently. That's fine. But here in the city, we still have to run a few basic health checks."

He paused, holding Ainsley's gaze with steady seriousness. "It's for your safety, and it helps us figure out what kind of intake placement makes sense for you.

"Officer Addax is female, so she's the best one to handle it. She's not going to hurt you. I promise."

He kept his posture calm and grounded, trying to make his presence feel steady instead of threatening.

Ainsley bit down on her lower lip until it hurt, her nails digging into her palms.

Her eyes darted around the strange, oversized clinic room. Everything looked as if it had been built for giants.

Then she looked back at the canine captain looming over her. He was easily three times her size.

He was clearly trying to explain something, maybe even trying to be reasonable, but their ideas of "reasonable" did not belong in the same universe.

A heavy, choking sense of helplessness rose in her chest. 'This isn't my world. None of my rules work here.'

If she wanted to survive, if she wanted to keep them from stamping "dangerous," "feral," or "untamable" onto her file, she had to swallow her pride and play along. For now.

Tears slipped down her cheeks. Slowly, she uncrossed her arms and let her tense shoulders sink.

But one last scrap of pride forced her chin up. She glared at Silas through red, swollen eyes.

When she spoke, her voice was small, but there was steel underneath it. "Fine. Then I want her back in here. And you need to leave."

Silas blinked, clearly caught off guard by the sudden change.

A few minutes ago, out in the precinct hallway, she had been clinging to his neck like he was the only solid thing in the world.

Now she was kicking him out like he was some stray raccoon digging through her trash.

For one brief second, something almost like disappointment crossed his usually unreadable face, followed by quiet resignation.

'This little human changes lanes way too fast,' he thought, baffled despite himself.

She was impossible to predict. The precinct database always said humans were complicated, emotionally delicate creatures.

Apparently, that had not been an exaggeration.

Keeping those thoughts to himself, Silas rose to his feet and gave a short nod. "Alright. I'll get Ella. Just try to work with her, okay?"

With that, he turned and left the room, pulling the heavy door shut as gently as he could.

Even after his massive frame disappeared, the room still felt weighted down by the trace of his presence.

The moment the latch clicked, Ainsley's legs gave out. She slid down the cold wall until she hit the floor.

She buried her face against her knees, and the sobs she had been holding back finally broke free.

Fear, shame, loneliness, and the terrible helplessness of being so small in a world built for creatures bigger and stronger than her all crashed over her at once.

Curled into herself on the floor of that cavernous clinic room, she looked heartbreakingly small.

Out in the hallway, Silas leaned his back against the wall. His sharp black ears twitched, angling toward the door as they caught the faint, muffled sound of her crying inside.

Then he tapped the radio mic on his uniform collar, and when he spoke, his voice had already settled back into its usual flat gravel.

"Ella, she agreed to the screening," he said over the comms. "Head in. And go easy on her."

Chapter 4 A Walking Medical Scanner?

The door slid open just wide enough for Ella to ease herself inside. She turned her head carefully, guiding her elegant spiral horns past the metal frame without a scrape.

Across the room, Ainsley was curled up in the far corner of the exam bay.

From Ella's height, Ainsley looked painfully small. She sat folded in on herself, swallowed by the warm, oversized room, her thin clothes rumpled and her face hidden between her knees.

Her narrow shoulders shook with muffled sobs that sounded much too sharp in the quiet.

Ella's chest tightened. Part of her still remembered the fierce, panicked screams Ainsley had thrown at them in the hallway.

But now, seeing her like this, all sharp edges and terror, Ella felt a wave of pity soften the last of her nerves.

She took a slow breath and made herself move calmly.

First, she crossed to the control panel beside the glass partition and tapped the privacy setting.

The smart glass clouded over at once, frosting from clear to opaque until the treatment area beyond disappeared completely. The room grew quieter, softer, and more private.

Then Ella approached. "Hey," she said gently. "It's okay. Nobody's rushing you."

She kept her steps slow and obvious, giving Ainsley plenty of time to see her coming. Her shoes made almost no sound against the padded floor.

"The floor's warm, but it's still not the comfiest place to sit," Ella added, keeping her voice light. "How about we get you up on the exam table?

"I just need to do a quick checkup. No needles, no poking, no scary stuff. Promise."

Ainsley did not look up. But her crying faded into a thin, shaky whimper. She did not bolt. She did not bare her teeth. She did not lash out.

That was enough for Ella.

She came closer and slowly knelt in front of her.

For a moment, she hesitated. Then she reached out and rested one hand on the top of Ainsley's head.

Her palm was warm, dry, and steady. It covered most of Ainsley's small head with ease.

Ella began to stroke her blonde, glossy hair in a slow rhythm, careful not to press too hard.

"You're okay," she murmured. "You're safe in here. No one's going to hurt you."

The touch was unfamiliar, but it was gentle. Warmth spread through Ainsley's scalp and down the back of her neck.

The blaring alarms in her head did not vanish, but they dulled, little by little, under that steady pressure.

Exhaustion began to win.

Ella felt the tension slowly drain from the small body beneath her hand. The trembling eased. The tight, frantic curl of Ainsley's posture loosened by a fraction.

Ella waited.

At last, Ainsley lifted her head. Her eyes were red and swollen. Tear tracks streaked her cheeks, and the tip of her nose was flushed pink.

She looked worn out and miserable.

But the wild terror in her eyes had dimmed. What remained was caution, exhaustion, and a guarded kind of calculation.

She looked into Ella's soft, expressive eyes, then flicked a glance around the sealed, quiet room.

'Anything is better than going to that cage.' The thought made her stomach twist.

After a long second, Ainsley gave the smallest nod.

Relief swept through Ella. A bright smile broke across her face, and her spiral horns bobbed slightly with it.

Ainsley wiped her face with the back of one hand. Her voice came out rough, but firm. "Turn around. Don't watch me change. I'll tell you when I'm done."

"Oh! Right. Of course." Ella straightened at once and turned her back.

To make the point extra clear, she walked a few paces toward the exam table and faced the wall. "I'm not looking. Take your time. Seriously, no rush."

Behind her, fabric rustled.

Ella let out a quiet breath. 'We have communication. Actual communication. Captain Grimm was right. Patience and respect. That's the trick.'

Ainsley changed quickly, keeping her movements small and efficient.

Out of habit, she braced herself for the bite of cold air against exposed skin. Outside, autumn had been all damp wind and chilly sidewalks.

But the chill never came.

Instead, a soft, even warmth settled around her. It felt as if she had stepped into an invisible bubble, one that adjusted itself to her body before she could even shiver.

The airflow was so gentle she could barely feel it, but the room stayed perfectly comfortable.

Ainsley looked down at her arms, confused. Then she glanced around the exam bay.

There were no obvious vents. No rattling heater. No draft from the ceiling. Even the pale blue floor beneath her bare feet held a mild, steady warmth.

"Not too cold, I hope?" Ella asked.

The rustling had stopped, so she turned around.

Ainsley stood near the corner, arms folded around herself, staring at the room like it had personally offended her understanding of physics.

Ella smiled. "It's the climate-control system. Before Captain Grimm left, he adjusted the room for human skin temperature and humidity. Pretty thoughtful, right?"

Ella's smile softened with genuine fondness. "He notices things like that. Tiny details. Then he acts like he has no idea how to take care of anyone."

Ainsley's chest tightened in a way she did not know what to do with. 'That stiff, black-eared officer actually thought of that?'

"Okay," Ella said. "Let's get this checkup done."

She trotted over to the medical cart, pulled on a pair of ultra-thin sterile gloves, and came back to stand in front of Ainsley.

Ainsley sat rigid in the exam chair, her gaze flicking toward the strange, smooth-edged instruments laid out on the tray.

'Is she going to press some ice-cold probe against me? Or run some kind of laser scanner over my body?' she wondered.

But Ella did not pick up any of the tools. Instead, she stepped directly in front of Ainsley and lowered her head.

The long spiral horns on her forehead angled gently toward Ainsley. Up close, they were beautiful, with fine natural ridges and a smooth ivory sheen.

Then something impossible happened.

A soft white glow stirred deep inside the horns.

It was not harsh or blinding. The light spread outward in a gentle, milky wash, settling around Ainsley like warm moonlight. Within seconds, it wrapped her from head to toe.

A quiet wave of warmth moved through her body. It was not heat exactly, and it was not pressure.

It felt more like sunlight through a clean window, or the first deep breath after stepping into a warm bath. The tension in her nerves began to loosen almost at once.

The glow sank through her skin, her muscles, even her bones, reaching places no ordinary light should have been able to reach.

For one strange second, Ainsley had the unsettling feeling that nothing inside her was hidden anymore. And yet it did not feel invasive. It felt safe.

She could feel the light steadying her pulse, easing the tight knot in her stomach, and clearing the heavy haze behind her eyes.

The scan lasted only ten seconds.

Then the glow faded, drawing back into Ella's horns until they looked solid and ordinary again.

The whole thing had happened so quickly that Ainsley almost wondered if she had imagined it.

Ella lifted her head and smiled, bright and relieved. "Well, good news. You're in pretty great shape.

"Organs are all where they should be, no structural damage, no hidden internal injuries. Your nervous system is responding normally, and your cellular health looks excellent."

She gave Ainsley a quick once-over, her expression still kind but more clinical now. "You are pretty drained, though.

"Low energy reserves, slow basal metabolism, and your adrenaline and cortisol are way up there.

"But after what you've been through? Totally expected. That's your body reacting to shock and acute stress. Nothing alarming.

"You need real sleep, decent food, and a chance to calm down. Once you get that, your numbers should level out."

Ainsley stared at her. 'Wait. That's it? The exam is over?'

No blood draw. No X-rays. No clattering machines. No cold metal table.

She had just been wrapped in glowing horn-light, and somehow it had felt more like a luxury spa treatment than a medical exam.

"Uh..." Ainsley said weakly. Her eyes were still fixed on Ella's forehead, as if a tiny scanner might be hidden somewhere inside the horn ridges.

"What exactly are you?" The second the words left her mouth, she wanted to disappear into the floor.

Ella did not look offended. If anything, she seemed amused.

She tilted her head, and her horns shifted at a charming angle. "I'm in the Hippotraginae subfamily. An addax, specifically. A radiant addax. There aren't many of us left."

Ainsley blinked. 'So she really is an antelope. Just... the deluxe glow-in-the-dark version.'

"How do you do that?" Ainsley blurted, curiosity finally overpowering her nerves. "And how can light run a full medical scan?"

Ella laughed softly. "Look at you. Two minutes ago you were about to bolt, and now you're grilling me."

She gathered Ainsley's discarded clothes from the side of the chair and folded them loosely in her lap.

"It's biological," Ella explained. "My family line produces a very specific type of bioluminescence.

"The light carries a natural frequency that passes through living tissue and picks up feedback from cells, nerves, organs, and metabolic rhythms.

"Okay, less science-speak. Think of my horns as both the light source and the receiver.

"The glow goes in, your body responds, and my horns read the signal coming back.

"If your liver gives back a sluggish pattern, that tells me you're depleted. If the rhythm around your heart is jumpy, that usually means anxiety or stress.

"If certain areas of the brain are overactive or underactive, I can read your emotional state and fatigue level.

"So basically, I can check vitals, spot minor tissue damage, track hormone spikes, and get a pretty accurate read on how your body is coping. No needles, no radiation, no pain."

Ainsley listened, completely absorbed. 'A walking, talking full-body scanner. With built-in cellular therapy. Sure. Why not? This place is insane.'

"Alright," Ella said, clapping her hands once. "Q and A time is over."

Before Ainsley could react, Ella scooped her up. "Time to move. Captain Grimm and the others are waiting outside for the verdict."

This time, Ainsley did not even try to squirm.

She simply went still in Ella's arms, clutching her folded clothes against her chest and staring at the warm amber lights of the medical bay.

'Fine. Whatever. She can carry me,' she thought.

Her brain felt too overloaded to protest. She had just been scanned by glowing antelope horns. Being hauled around like an oversized toddler barely even registered anymore.

She resigned herself to her fate. 'Maybe I'll get used to this place eventually. Yeah. Maybe.'

Chapter 5 A Stranger Beastkin

Ainsley was still reeling from the shock of the "walking hospital"—Officer Ella's glowing, spiraling horns—and had pretty much resigned herself to her fate when she was carried back into the noisy police station lobby.

The moment her feet touched the ground, before she could even steady herself, a stranger's voice cut in, cool and businesslike. "All done with the checkup?"

Ainsley looked up and froze again.

The newcomer was also an officer in a crisp uniform. He was tall and lean, even a bit thinner than Silas, with a unique, almost reptilian elegance to his frame.

His eyes were the most striking thing about him—sharp, vertical pupils of inky green set in pale gold irises, like two cold gems, giving off an unnerving, almost soul-piercing gaze.

The skin on his neck was different from a human's, covered in fine, smooth, dark green-tinged scales that glittered faintly and disappeared into his collar.

His features were sharp—high nose, thin lips, and a pale, almost cold complexion.

All together, it created a stunning, icy beauty that screamed "stay away."

'A snake?' Ainsley thought, her heart pounding.

'Definitely a snake Beastkin. What kind of snake? Venomous? Was his tongue... a forked one?'

It was a rude thought, but she couldn't help being curious. 'Was his body temperature really low? Would I feel cold if I got close? But... he was so hot!'

He was totally different from Silas's reliable, loyal kind of handsome. This guy was dangerous, mysterious, irresistibly fascinating... an almost demonic kind of good-looking.

Ella had been brushing Ainsley's head gently without realizing it. Upon seeing who had arrived, she pulled her hand away from Ainsley's head and gave a nod.

"Yeah, Azure, we're done. All normal, healthy. Where's Captain Grimm?" she asked.

The snake officer, Azure Scale, was holding a tablet and tapping away, eyes on the screen. "Car accident on Onion Street. He got sent there."

But his cold-blooded senses—heat detection, subtle air currents—were telling him loud and clear that the little human who'd just been checked out was staring at him with intense, unabashed curiosity.

From head to toe. Especially his eyes and neck scales.

Uncomfortable, he frowned slightly, finally looked up, and his vertical pupils locked onto Ainsley's gaze before she could look away.

His voice was flat but carried a hint of awkwardness. "Ahem... if you keep staring at me like that, you're going to distract me."

His voice had a cold, slick quality too, like silk sliding over glass, or water flowing from a deep pool.

Ella burst out laughing at his words, her spiraling horns trembling. "Azure, are you blushing? That's a first! When you had to handle those lost little humans before, you never acted like this.

"They'd stare for a second and then hide."

Azure looked even more pained.

He rubbed his temple with his knuckles, glanced back at Ainsley, and explained with a helpless tone, "The thing is, not many stare at me like that—constantly, nonstop."

Her curiosity was so blatant it made this nocturnal snake, who was used to hiding and observing, feel lost.

"Anyway, enough of that." Ella's smile faded as she turned to look at Ainsley. Before she could help herself, she reached out and messed gently with Ainsley's hair.

Ainsley had given up resisting and just stood there with a blank face.

"So, what do we do with her? The report's fine, but her identity's unknown. Suspected... well, maybe from the wild. I've got work to do later.

"Could you hang out with her? Or find her a place?" Ella looked at Azure.

Azure immediately shook his head, his vertical pupils full of rejection. "I've got a mountain of paperwork." He glanced at Ainsley, who was still sneaking peeks at his scales. "Besides, I'm not great at handling... younglings with too much curiosity."

He'd swapped out "little humans" for a more scientific term.

"But I don't have time to look after her, and I've never raised a human." Ella shrugged.

Officers with special expertise like them were mainly responsible for identification and initial handling; long-term care was simply not their forte.

"Um... maybe I can take her?" A voice cut in.

It was the raptor who'd saved Ainsley mid-air, Zephyr Cloudwing.

He had tucked his wings away, looking every inch a sharp and capable young man. Only his eyes remained as piercing as ever.

"I... I briefly fostered an injured youngling human before, so I have some experience. But later, because my aerial patrol schedule got too crazy, I couldn't take proper care of her, so I transferred her to a more suitable family," he said.

Ella and Azure exchanged glances, as if weighing whether the proposal was feasible.

"That could work." Azure nodded. "You've got experience, which is more than we can say. Just take her in temporarily until we finish the identity check and go through the follow-up placement procedures."

"No!" Ainsley practically shrieked, cutting off their "arrangement."

She stared at the raptor in horror.

'What was this? The police station was just going to hand over a lost, unidentified 'child', even though I wasn't actually one, to some random guy who'd 'raised one before'?' Ainsley thought.

In her world, that was insane.

"Shh." Ella pinched Ainsley's flushed cheek softly out of habit, squinting in satisfaction at the feel. "He's raised humans before. He knows how to take care of you, better than us."

"Absolutely not!" Ainsley stepped back, dodging Ella's hand, her voice shaking with tension.

"What if he hurts me? I don't even know him. I... I feel safer here."

She looked around the police station lobby—full of weird Beastkins, but at least orderly.

Deep down, no matter how strange this world was, the words "police station" still represented some kind of bottom line and safety.

'It should be safe here... right?' she wondered.

"I would never hurt a human!" Zephyr looked like he'd been mortally insulted.

His eyes went wide, the base of his wings twitching like he wanted to spread them but forced himself not to.

"We have the Endangered Sapient-species Act. Hurting a human is a felony. And I really like humans! I was sad for ages when the last kid left," he defended himself eagerly, looking utterly sincere.

Standoff.

Ainsley pressed her lips together, her eyes full of mistrust.

Meanwhile, Zephyr looked hurt and confused.

Ella was stuck.

Azure raised an eyebrow, wondering why this little human was so wary—more than what one'd expect from a typical "wild" individual.

Just then, noise and footsteps came from the lobby entrance.

It was Silas.

He was his usual calm, capable self, but the cuffs of his uniform jacket looked a little dusty.

And behind him, two officers were dragging... well, an unsteady figure with a crooked crest and a gorgeous but now-stained tail...

"Oh! Is that a peacock?" Ainsley gasped quietly, eyes wide.

Curiosity overpowered her fear briefly.

It was indeed a large, not-fully-transformed, or maybe just not bothering to, peacock Beastkin.

His colorful feathers still shimmered under the lights, though he looked pretty rough.

"Captain, drunk driving?" Ella immediately switched into work mode, walking over and taking the peacock Beastkin, who was still half-conscious yet trying to fan his tail to show off.

"Yeah," Silas said, concise.

His gaze swept across the room, paused on Ainsley for half a second, then told Ella, "The hospital needs you too. Help with the autopsy report. They need you to confirm some details."

He meant the victim from the car accident.

"Got it." Ella nodded, instantly transferred Ainsley's digital medical report to Silas, then dragged the still-muttering "I'm not drunk. I can still fly..." peacock out of the lobby, presumably heading straight for the hospital or morgue.

Silas quickly skimmed through the report Ella sent over, then looked up at Azure, who looked utterly worn out, practically slumping against the wall.

"Azure?" Silas's voice held a hint of question. "Isn't it daytime? Aren't you on the night shift?"

Azure raised his lifeless, vertical-pupil eyes and waved a weak hand. "Don't even ask... Chief Frost, that old fox, roped me into doing last month's interspecies conflict report. I just got off the night shift! Man!"

His last words were almost a wail.

Silas's face didn't change, but Ainsley thought she saw the corner of his mouth twitch.

'Oh? A scheming little dog, huh?' she thought.

"Perfect. No rest for you then," Silas announced calmly.

He pointed in the direction the peacock had been dragged. "Drunk driving. Killed three beasts.

"When he sobers up, get his statement. Also, after the hospital autopsy report comes out, you follow up, organize the case file, and prepare it for the prosecutor's office."

Azure froze at his words.

A few seconds later, he let out a thunderous roar. "No!"

Then, to the shock of everyone, including Ainsley, his long legs below the waist, in a flash of light, morphed and merged into a thick, powerful snake tail covered in a pattern of dark green and black.

The tail slammed against the floor with a loud crack, full of pent-up frustration and the hell of overtime work.

He slithered away at terrifying speed, charging murderously toward the direction Ella and the unlucky peacock had gone—apparently ready to take out all his sleep-deprived, overtime-induced rage on that drunk peacock.

Ainsley stared, dumbfounded. 'His legs... turned into a tail. For real! It really changes!' she thought to herself.

Zephyr, used to other Beastkins's tantrums, just shook his head and turned his attention back to Ainsley, a hint of whine in his voice as he said to Silas, "Captain Grimm, so what about this little human?

"She doesn't want to go with me."

He sounded like her refusal was completely unreasonable.

"Doesn't want to go with you?" Silas's gaze landed on Ainsley again. A flicker of confusion crossed his deep brown Doberman eyes.

He quickly pulled up Ella's report summary. "Report says she's healthy, but no socialization or ID info. Tentatively classified as 'unregistered wild individual'."

Then, he crouched down to Ainsley's eye level, to seem less intimidating, and spoke more gently than usual, though still with a cop's seriousness.

"You're not in a position to live on your own right now, and you can't stay here long-term. He has experience raising humans. Right now, he's the best option."

He pointed at Zephyr.

Zephyr nodded frantically, trying to look reliable and gentle. "Yeah, yeah. I can even cook human food. I learned it especially.

"And I have toys, clothes, and blankets from the last little human, all clean. I can take really good care of you."

He looked at Ainsley with eager, "pick me, pick me" eyes, like he was selling an ideal foster family.

Ainsley looked at her temporary guardian, a raptor, then glanced over at the poised Doberman police officer beside her, who looked worn out yet steady.

She also thought about that snake who'd already slithered off to work overtime with his serpentine tail, and the antelope lady that glowed during physical exams who'd just left…

Chapter 6 Can I Stay Here?

After a moment's thought, Ainsley asked, "Can't I just stay here?"

Her voice was barely a whisper, tentative and weak.

But in the suddenly silent police station lobby, it landed like a pebble on a frozen lake.

And then, the lake, along with 10 feet of solid ice beneath it, cracked with a loud snap.

"What?!" The first to explode was Zephyr.

He jumped in shock, half his wings snapping open behind him with a sharp, piercing cry—the instinctive reaction of a startled bird of prey.

The sound was so piercing that Ainsley's ears rang. She instinctively covered them with both hands and shrank back.

Silas also spun his head toward her, his usually calm Doberman pupils reflecting pure shock and disbelief.

His ears even twitched a couple of times, barely noticeable, a canine's body language when receiving information beyond comprehension.

All the surrounding noise: officers' hurried footsteps, clerks clacking on keyboards, the bickering of Beastkin citizens filing reports over trivial things like "the neighbor's kid stole fruit from my tree", all of it stopped dead.

The whole lobby seemed to hit a mute button. Every creature with various ears, tails, and horns turned in unison, their gazes like spotlights focusing on Ainsley.

Those eyes held shock, confusion, disbelief, as if she'd just announced something that defied the laws of the universe.

Ainsley was terrified by the reaction.

She stared at those suddenly dilated pupils, round or vertical, and her heart sank.

'Crap. Did I say something wrong? Is this not allowed? Can't the police station take in 'lost property' like me?

'Did I break some taboo? Would I be arrested as a dangerous person? Or... would I she be sent straight to that 'Human Protection Center,' which sounded an awful lot like a zoo?' she wondered.

Panic seized her again, draining the little courage she'd mustered.

She took a step back, her voice even softer, almost trembling with tears. "Can't... I?"

Silas finally snapped out of his shock. He frowned, not out of displeasure, but pure confusion.

He tilted his head, seriously considering this unprecedented question, his black upright ears swiveling slightly as he thought.

"There's never been a situation like this," he said slowly, deliberately, as if stating an objective fact.

"An unregistered wild human with no identified status and no immediate danger requiring police protection.

"According to the current procedure. Either they're placed under the temporary guardianship of a qualified individual or family while waiting for identity verification and formal placement.

"Or they're transferred to the Human Protection Center for professional care. So..."

Everyone knew what came after that "so."

So, staying at the police station? That was against the rules and unprecedented.

Ainsley's heart sank.

But just then, a cheerful, brisk female voice cut in, breaking the silence and the deadlock. "What's the big deal? If she wants to stay, let her stay."

Everyone turned to see a tall female officer striding toward them. Her uniform bore far more elaborate and eye-catching insignia than Silas's.

She had short, neat dark brown hair and bright, striking features.

Most eye-catching were the alert, upright ears on top of her head—the kind with beautiful black-brown markings, like a large feline.

She moved with undeniable authority. Every officer in her path, whether busy or stunned, straightened their backs and looked at her with respect.

Clearly, she held a very high rank.

At her words, the hall, which had been dead silent just now, instantly filled with quiet gasps and muffled exclamations.

Many young officers' eyes lit up. They exchanged excited glances, their tails wagging subtly behind them, ears twitching with excitement.

The air filled with a barely contained, buzzing anticipation.

"Commander Nejara," Silas stepped forward, his tone still serious as a subordinate addressing a superior.

But the slight loosening of his expression, the tiny lift of his brow that seemed to say "that idea doesn't sound half bad," gave away his true feelings.

"This is unprecedented. No human has ever stayed in a police station long-term. And besides, if the station 'keeps' a human... who's responsible? How do we define accountability? How do we cover the expenses?" he asked.

The female commander, Nejara Burgess, saw the barely concealed anticipation in all her subordinates, including Silas.

She didn't answer his questions directly. Instead, she looked at Ainsley, who was huddled next to Ella, looking small, pitiful, and utterly helpless.

She walked over to Ainsley, crouched down, and naturally reached out, gently brushing the back of her fingers against Ainsley's cheek.

Her fingers were long and strong, with light calluses, but her touch was incredibly soft.

The way she looked at Ainsley was full of undisguised fondness and admiration, a look Ainsley knew well.

It was like a human spotting a stunningly beautiful Ragdoll cat or Samoyed on the street, wanting nothing more than to take it home and spoil it rotten.

"So cute little human," Nejara said sincerely, her voice full of warmth.

"You're the prettiest and bravest one I've ever seen."

Ainsley had been tense with fear, but at these words, she froze for a second.

Then a strange mix of shyness and the joy of being recognized quietly began to dilute her terror.

No girl could remain completely unmoved when a stunningly beautiful female officer sincerely called her "pretty", especially after so many scares.

Her cheeks flushed involuntarily. She lowered her eyes, unconsciously twisting the hem of her shirt, her voice barely audible. "Th-thank you..."

With that, she felt somewhat embarrassed and buried her head even lower.

That shy, flustered little act instantly detonated the emotions the Beastkins around her had been suppressing.

"Oh my!" Someone let out a long, affectionate praise.

Then came a buzz of hushed comments.

"She's so polite."

"She even says thank you. My heart is melting."

"How can she be so cute? Let her stay, please!"

"I finally have a reason to come to work."

"Um... can we hug her?" someone asked cautiously.

Nejara stood up, looked around with a knowing smile, and waved her hand grandly. "Only if she says yes."

"Yay!" Another muffled cheer erupted.

Just then, Ella returned, holding the preliminary report on the peacock's drunk driving case. She handed it to Silas.

Overhearing the discussion, the tips of her beautiful spiraling horns began to glow with a soft, pleased light, and her face was barely concealed in excitement. "Really? She can stay? But... what about Chief Frost?"

She voiced Silas's earlier concern.

"That old man?" Nejara raised an eyebrow, her smile turning sly and confident.

"I'll talk to him. As for your other question, Silas," she turned to the Doberman captain.

"Who's responsible? Judging by the way all of you have your eyes lit up, I don't think I need to worry about that.

"Let's just do it the old-fashioned way: whoever feeds her pays for it out of their own pocket. Clothes and other stuff too. Buy them if you want.

"As for where she'll stay...

"That unused break room in the back with the private bathroom should work fine. Clean it out. But," she emphasized, "the department's budget has no line item for 'human maintenance.' Everything comes out of your own pockets."

This proposal was met with near-universal silent approval and enthusiastic looks.

After all, no one wouldn't want to see, and maybe even feed and care for, such a precious, cute little human every day at work.

It would be the ultimate morale boost and distraction from the tedium of police work.

"Awesome! I'll bring my baby's favorite nutritional fruit puree tomorrow."

"My aunt owns a clothing store. I'll see if I can find something for a little human girl."

"I can clean her room."

"I'll teach her how to read."

They were already chattering away, passionately discussing the finer points of "how to 'scientifically' raise a little human," as if preparing for some major festival.

Ainsley, caught in the middle of the storm, stood alone, growing even more bewildered.

She honestly didn't know what emotions to feel anymore.

Fear? Yes, when she first fell from the sky and was surrounded by strange Beastkins, fear had been overwhelming.

But after everything—Silas's careful protection, Ella's professional and somewhat embarrassing exam, and now this overwhelming but genuine enthusiasm from the police—she hadn't felt any real hostility or ill intent.

Their "cherishing" of humans seemed sincere, even encoded in their laws and social consensus.

Happiness? Maybe... a little.

After all, the stoic Doberman Silas, the cold snake officer Azure, the handsome raptor Zephyr, the dashing commander with her spotted ears, and the gentle antelope Ella, nearly all of them were stunningly beautiful, each with their own unique charm.

Humans tend to let their guard down around beautiful things, thinking, "They're so good-looking, they can't be bad."

A shallow but common psychology, and it was subtly at work here.

Yet what overwhelmed her most right now was a hollow, aimless sense of bewilderment.

She just stood there, dazed, watching these "Beastkin cops" who defied all her previous understanding, enthusiastically debating which brand of nutritional supplement to give her.

What pajamas to dress her in, how to adjust the temperature and humidity of her room, and whether to get her some toys.

From their scattered but information-packed discussions, she pieced together a picture of how "humans" lived in this world.

Food: Similar to her world, but with specially prepared "human food" that was more refined and easier to absorb.

Clothes: Everything from underwear to down jackets was available, even dedicated human clothing brands.

Housing: Smaller furniture and bigger rooms, probably with extra safety features like edge guards.

Medical care: Dedicated human hospitals and Beastkin doctors like Ella with special healing abilities.

And the most crucial number: The total human population in the world was less than 100,000.

The Beastkin population? 5 billion.

'No wonder...' Ainsley muttered to herself. 'No wonder they treasure humans so much, even making that strict Human Protection Act...'

Rarity begets value, especially for a once-great intelligent species now barely surviving by a thread.

This wasn't just "pet" territory; it was more like protecting a "living cultural heritage."

Just as she was lost in thought, processing all this shocking information, the warm hand on her head never stopped petting her.

Ella had returned and naturally pulled Ainsley to her side.

Then, she proceeded to stroke her smooth hair, one stroke after another, with practiced satisfaction, her face radiating immense happiness and a sense of achievement, as if thinking, "I actually get to pet a wild human with my own hands in my lifetime!"

Anxin was like, 'Whatever. Go ahead and pet me.'

She stared up at the bright but not blinding lights on the ceiling, listening to the noisy but lively chatter around her and feeling the gentle, slightly callused touch on her head.

At least for now, she was safe.

And it seemed she really didn't have to be taken away by some strange Beastkin.

Chapter 7 A Leash

"So, what do we do with this little human while we're getting the break room ready? Where's she supposed to go?" A young officer with round bear ears scratched his head and asked the million-dollar question.

As soon as he said it, all the Beastkins who'd just been excitedly discussing room decor and shopping lists froze on the spot.

They'd gotten carried away.

The break room might've been "unused," but it was originally meant for officers pulling extra shifts.

The bed was extra-long and extra-wide. The desk was ridiculously tall. The chairs were heavy enough to crush someone.

Even though some furniture could work, for Ainsley, who was even smaller than the average human, it was all giant-sized.

She needed human-sized stuff: a small bed, a small dresser, a small table, a couch that fit her height. All that had to be bought.

Not to mention all the little things needed to protect a fragile human: corner guards, edge bumpers, anti-slip mats...

And most urgently—clothes, shoes, bedding, toiletries. She was still in that thin little outfit.

Shopping took time. Setting things up took time.

'So what about tonight? Tomorrow night?' they wondered.

Ainsley watched these Beastkins who'd been all excited a moment ago, now totally stuck. Their faces screamed, "We had a plan. Plan failed. Oh crap, what now?"

She could guess what they were thinking.

Humans were extremely rare. Most Beastkins probably went their whole lives only seeing humans on video or from far away at sanctuaries.

They had zero real experience "raising", or rather, caring for, a live human.

It was like a human getting some super rare, precious pet for the first time. Total chaos.

They had no idea what humans couldn't eat for fear of allergies or poisoning, nor did they know the common symptoms of human illnesses.

And they were worried—if she accidentally bumped into something, fell, or got sick, how would they, used to handling violent conflicts and tough Beastkins, even deal with it?

'Beastkins were actually pretty easy to read. Their emotions were all right there on their faces, or twitching ears, or wagging tails.' Ainsley caught herself thinking that.

'Wait.

'But if temporary housing is such a big problem... am I going to have to go with that Zephyr guy, the only one who claimed to have 'experience raising humans'?

'No way!' Her inner self was shaking its head frantically.

Sure, Zephyr was good-looking and had saved her life. But the thought of going home alone with a winged raptor, that unknown, that fear, grabbed her heart again.

Deep down, she felt safer staying in the police station, a public, "official" place, than going to some private territory, even if this place was full of weird Beastkins.

'If I said, 'I can just crash on your big couch' or 'I'll make do,' I'd probably get shot down by these Beastkins who'd already gone into full 'overprotective mode.'

'Just look at them, they look like they want to put me in a sterile, temperature-controlled safe,' Ainsley thought.

Watching these tall, intimidating Beastkin officers collectively stressing out over her "housing problem," she felt a weird mix of absurdity and helplessness.

She couldn't help shaking her head slightly and letting out a tiny sigh.

It was so soft she could barely hear it herself.

But to those beast ears—way more sensitive than human ears—that sigh was like a thunderclap.

"What's wrong?! Are you feeling okay? Did you get scared?" Ella was the first to react.

The light on her horns shifted to a pale gold—"alert" mode—and her hand instinctively reached for Ainsley's forehead to check her temperature.

"She sighed! Ella, please check her out. Were we too loud?" the bear-eared officer asked nervously.

"What time is it? Is she hungry? Low energy might mean low blood sugar." Another officer with long, rabbit-like ears immediately looked at the clock.

"It's already 4 PM. It's been almost three hours since she showed up, and she's only had a little water. She must be hungry." Someone did the math.

Ainsley silently shrank back into Silas's chest.

In the sudden silence of the lobby, it was embarrassingly loud.

Ainsley flushed bright red at once, wishing she could vanish into thin air.

Only then did it hit her that before she'd "jumped," because of that awful business meeting and the chaos after, she hadn't eaten anything.

Counting the time before she transmigrated, she realized she'd been fasting for nearly twenty hours.

The adrenaline from all the fear and stress had been suppressing her hunger. Now that she'd relaxed just a tiny bit, her body was fighting back hard.

"See! She is hungry." The Beastkins all had these "called it," "we knew it" expressions, mixed with guilt and sympathy for "starving their little human."

Silas looked at Ainsley, who was so embarrassed she wanted to bury her face, then at his colleagues, all well-meaning but clearly clueless, and made a decision.

"Ella, you guys keep working on the room setup and shopping list. Get whatever basics you can today," he said quickly, then turned to Ainsley.

"I'll take her to get something to eat. I remember there's a 'Human Wellness Center' over on Persimmon Grove, in my sector. They should have food she can eat."

'Human Wellness Center?' Ainsley was even more confused. 'That sounds way too much like a fancy pet shop or a baby goods store.'

Her brain immediately started picturing it: a Beastkin employee smiling, tying a bib around a human customer sitting in a special little chair, then bringing out a fancy little bowl of... dog food, no, wait, a nutritious meal.

With optional add-ons like brushing, manicure, and even a bath and spa package...

"Good idea. Captain Grimm, go ahead. We've got this!" Ella nodded, and the other officers agreed.

Then, Silas turned and headed to the locker room.

He came back a few minutes later, out of his crisp uniform.

Ainsley's eyes went wide. She stared, completely stunned.

Silas'd swapped the serious police uniform for a black motorcycle leather jacket over a simple gray tee, matching slim-fit pants, and a pair of expensive-looking boots.

The metal zippers and studs on the leather glinted under the lights. Around his neck—a simple but very noticeable silver chain.

And what made her heart skip a beat? On his signature black Doberman ears, he was wearing small, matte black stud earrings.

It weirdly matched his cool, stern vibe, adding a touch of rebellious hotness.

'Whoa, total biker hottie! So freaking handsome. And those earrings, chains… Wait a second, chains?' Ainsley's eyes dropped to the chain around his neck, and a ridiculous thought popped into her head: dog collar.

'No, no, no! It's a fashion accessory,' she mentally corrected herself.

Silas picked up a matte black helmet that matched his outfit and walked over to everyone.

"Tell Nejara I'm taking the afternoon off," he said briefly.

Then, before Ainsley could fully recover from the "hot biker boy" shock, he walked up to her and, very naturally, reached out.

Like picking up a small child, he hooked one arm under her butt and the crook of her legs, and used the other to steady her back, easily scooping her up.

Ainsley froze like a statue, shocked beyond words.

She was 5'5" in her old world, and not many guys could just pick her up like that. Here, she barely touched the ground.

This feeling was...

"Got it! Captain Grimm, be careful on the road. Take good care of her." Ella came over reluctantly, gave Ainsley's tiny hand, which she called "little paw pads," one more squeeze, and let go.

"Sure." Silas adjusted his hold so Ainsley was more stable, then looked down at the dazed little human in his arms. "Ready to go?"

Hearing his voice, a little lower, a little more relaxed than when he was in uniform, Ainsley looked up instinctively, ready to say yes or just nod her head.

And her gaze fell right into his.

Without the police cap, his deep brown Doberman eyes were even clearer up close. Nice shape. Pretty long eyelashes, actually.

A few strands of black hair fell over his forehead because he was looking down, softening his sharp features.

The biker look made him less stiff and serious, more edgy and wild. But the way he looked at her was still calm, focused, reassuring.

Just that one glance, and Ainsley felt like she'd been burned. She ducked her head, practically burying her face in the shoulder of his leather jacket.

Her heart was pounding.

'My face... must be bright red. Even my ears were burning. Ainsley, you pathetic woman!' she screamed internally.

'He's just good-looking. You're an 'endangered species' right now. A 'little human'! Get it together!'

Silas tilted his head slightly, confused by her sudden movement and the flush spreading across her ears and neck. That little habit, combined with his biker look and earrings, was unexpectedly cute.

He wondered, 'What's wrong? Did she duck her head because she's too hungry? Dizzy from low blood sugar? Or did everyone scare her?'

He held her a little tighter, quickly gave his colleagues a few more reminders about what to buy, then didn't waste any more time.

Holding the little human in his arms who'd suddenly gone dead silent, though inside she was seething, he strode straight out of the police station.

Chapter 8 She's with Me

Silas carried Ainsley through the police station's back hallway to a large parking garage on the side of the building.

The garage was packed with all kinds of vehicles—regular four-wheeled police cars, plus motorcycles and hoverboards that looked like they were designed for Beastkins of different shapes and sizes.

Silas walked straight to a motorcycle.

It was a heavy-duty matte black motorcycle, with sharp lines, aggressive stance.

The metal parts gleamed coldly in the dim light of the garage—it looked expensive and seriously fast.

He set Ainsley gently on the wide passenger seat.

She instinctively swung her leg over and grabbed the handle at the back of the seat.

Her feet dangled in the air, nowhere near the foot pegs. She stretched her toes down, but couldn't even brush the edge.

She looked at her short, dangling legs, then at the massive bike, and did some mental math. 'This guy's like, what, 6'7"? How tall are elephants? Wait, what about mice? They can't be as tall as me, right?

'Oh, and what do I even look like now? Did I die and get transmigrated into another world?

'I hadn't looked in a mirror once since arriving. Had my face changed too?'

Curious, she leaned toward the side mirror, stretching up to get a look. But she was too short. All she could see was the top of her own head.

Silas noticed her struggling.

He glanced at her thin clothes, a long-sleeve shirt, and casual pants from her old world, then felt the afternoon breeze starting to cool down.

The ride to Persimmon Grove would take a while. On a fast bike, the wind would be even colder.

A fragile human like her would probably catch a cold.

Without much hesitation, he unzipped his leather jacket, then carefully scooped Ainsley up again, adjusted her so her back was against his chest, and tucked her inside his jacket, wrapping the leather around her.

Ainsley went stiff instantly.

Warmth enveloped her—the faint smell of leather mixed with Silas's own scent, something clean, a bit like sun-drenched... reliable big dog.

Her back pressed against his firm chest. She could feel his body heat and the steady thump of his heartbeat through his shirt.

The inside of the leather jacket was soft and warm, blocking out the chill.

Her head poked out right at his collar line, giving her a clear view forward.

'This position... is way too intimate and overprotective.

'It's like a mama kangaroo tucking a joey into her pouch,' Ainsley thought.

Her heart started racing out of control. Her cheeks burned. She barely dared to breathe, let alone move.

She was terrified that any tiny movement would shatter this fragile protective shell or cause some reaction she wouldn't know how to handle.

Sensing how stiff the little human in his arms had become, Silas looked down. His warm breath brushed the top of her head.

His voice was a little softer than usual. "Don't worry. I won't go too fast. If you feel dizzy or scared, just close your eyes."

His voice vibrated through his chest, low and clear, strangely calming.

Ainsley tried to steady her pounding heart and let out a tiny "okay." It was so quiet, barely audible.

Silas swung his long leg over the bike and sat down smoothly. He gently pulled Ainsley's legs out to a more comfortable position, then put on his helmet.

The engine roared to life with a deep, powerful rumble as the bike rolled smoothly out of the garage and into the street.

After the initial tension faded, curiosity took over.

Ainsley poked her little head out from Silas's collar and started looking around at this strange new world.

The buildings were modern, almost futuristic—glass skyscrapers reflecting sunlight.

The streets were wide, filled with all kinds of vehicles. Pedestrians, well, Beastkins, bustled everywhere. A lady with deer antlers elegantly carried shopping bags. A guy with a big fluffy tail chatted on his phone.

An old man with a turtle shell crossed the street slowly. Kids with rabbit ears chased each other on the sidewalk. Everything was so normal, yet so completely abnormal.

She scanned the shop signs, billboards, street signs... and then realized a big problem: the writing.

The squiggly, complicated symbols—part pictogram, part something else—she couldn't read a single character.

They spoke the same language, sure. She could understand what everyone was saying, even though some word choices were different. But the writing system was completely foreign.

No wonder that bear-eared officer had been so excited about "teaching her to read." In this world, she was a complete illiterate.

A deeper sense of being lost, the cultural gap, washed over her.

The bike stopped at a wide intersection to wait for a long red light.

Ainsley noticed that the traffic light cycles seemed really long here, probably to accommodate Beastkins with different walking speeds.

Her eyes wandered aimlessly until they landed on a pair waiting on the other side of the street.

It was a female Beastkin. She wore a tailored, expensive-looking suit and vibed elegance.

Instead of animal ears or feathers, she had slender, graceful antennae on her head, tipped with small, round knobs.

And on her back, through the opening of her fancy coat, she had a pair of delicate, translucent wings covered in fine, glittering scales. They were a brilliant orange and black pattern and fluttered slightly.

"A butterfly?" Ainsley muttered without thinking.

"What?" Silas heard her and followed her gaze. "Yeah. Insect class, Lepidoptera. Looks like a monarch butterfly, judging by the pattern."

Just then, Ainsley noticed something beside the Flutter-kin.

She was holding something like a leash, a fancy, jewel-embedded leash.

The other end of the leash was tied to a human male dressed in an elegant formal outfit, sitting in a fancy, tiny convertible toy car.

He looked to be in his twenties, not that tall, maybe five foot five at most.

His hair was dyed bright ginger to match the Flutter-kin's wings. His skin was pale, his features delicate, and his chin was tilted up with a pampered, entitled expression.

He'd been idly looking at the street, but then he seemed to sense Ainsley staring and turned his head.

Their eyes met.

The ginger-haired guy raised an eyebrow. Then, with a playful smirk, he actually winked at Ainsley, the little human tucked inside Silas's leather jacket with only a tiny face visible under a big helmet.

Ainsley silently shrank back into Silas's chest.

The Flutter-kin had also noticed them.

But her eyes went straight to Ainsley, and she completely ignored Silas.

The light was still red—major intersections here had red lights that lasted a full five minutes to give slow-moving species time to cross safely.

She walked over with her little carriage and human, heading straight for Silas's bike.

"Good afternoon," the Flutter-kin said, her voice light and sweet, like the flutter of wings.

"Is this your little human? Oh my goodness, so cute! Why is she so tiny?" Her eyes sparkled, locked onto Ainsley with pure adoration and curiosity.

"Can I pet her? Just once?" Her silk-gloved hand reached out eagerly.

Silas subtly shifted his body, smoothly blocking the Flutter-kin's hand.

He'd meant to explain she wasn't his pet but a temporary ward at the police station. But the words died on his lips.

Seeing how interested this woman was in Ainsley, and that ginger-haired guy still staring at her, he felt something stir in him. Something like... territorial instinct.

He heard himself say, in a calm but definite tone, "Yeah, she's with me. She's young, a bit shy, and easily scared."

He even pulled the jacket a little tighter around Ainsley.

Flustered by the flirty glances from the ginger-haired man and the Flutter-kin's blatant plea for pets, Ainsley hadn't even had time to process the subtle undertones and possessive vibe behind Silas's words.

Right then, the ginger-haired man in the tiny car rose gracefully, almost pretentiously, to his feet.

He straightened his small orange bow tie, waved at Ainsley, and gave her a polite, practiced smile.

His voice was clear and pleasant. "Hello there, cute little one. My name is Sugar. What's yours?"

'Su... Sugar?' Ainsley's face scrunched up involuntarily at the name. 'A guy who looked so... flashy was named Sugar? It wasn't a bad name, but it felt strangely out of place with his whole look,' she thought.

Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, "I'm Ainsley Ashwood. Um, why are you called Sugar?"

As soon as she asked, she regretted it, wondering if she was being rude.

But Sugar looked completely unbothered, even a little surprised that she'd asked. "Because my Astral Patron loves sugar," he said, nodding toward the Flutter-kin who was gazing at him with doting eyes.

"She's obsessed with honey-flavored pastries and drinks."

'Astral Patron? Another word for owner or caretaker? Oh. That made sense. Just like people named their pets 'Cake,' 'Cookie,' 'Honey,' or 'Chocolate' based on what they liked.' Ainsley realized.

In this world, humans seemed to be in that exact position.

Sugar looked Ainsley up and down again, noting her plain clothes and how she was practically stuffed into a leather jacket like a helpless little burrito, and said with interest, "Ainsley Ashwood? That's a really unique name."

He waved a finger. "The other humans I know have cute names like 'Candy,' 'Coco,' 'Vivi', things like that. It's rare to have a full name like yours. It sounds really formal. Almost like a Beastkin's name."

Now Ainsley felt self-conscious.

It felt like her name was too serious and out of place here.

Imagine everyone's pet was named "Coke" or "Peanut," and then someone walked in with a cat named "Jennifer Winslow."

"Yeah, I guess," she said with a dry laugh, not sure how to respond.

She shrank back into Silas's jacket, leaving only the top of her dark brown hair visible, like an ostrich burying its head in the sand.

Silas looked down at the fuzzy little head trying to hide. Something soft brushed across his heart—a strange, unfamiliar tenderness.

He subtly raised one hand, holding it lightly behind her head, as if carving out a little safe space just for her.

The Flutter-kin covered her mouth and giggled at Ainsley's shy reaction. "She's so sweet. My Sugar is so moody sometimes. He doesn't even like it when I hug him. Such a little king."

Her tone was fond, a playful complaint, and the way she looked at him was pure adoration.

Then the light turned green. A chime signaled it was safe to cross.

The Flutter-kin nodded at Silas as a goodbye, then led the fancy little car away. Meanwhile, Sugar kept casting meaningful glances toward Ainsley as they strolled elegantly across the crosswalk and vanished into the crowd on the opposite street.

The motorcycle started moving again, merging into traffic.

Silas felt the warmth of the little bundle in his arms and the slight quickening of her heartbeat from nervousness or shyness, even through his jacket and her clothes.

That "she's with me" that had slipped out earlier, as he thought about it now, didn't feel wrong at all but surprisingly satisfying.

'Sweet, huh? Maybe having a human around... wasn't so bad,' he thought to himself.

Then, he tightened his arms slightly, holding her more securely, and rode toward the Human Wellness Center on Persimmon Grove.