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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. 📖 The story gets hotter—click "Download" to read the uncensored chapters! 👇

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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.