I thought I bought a pet manual. Turns out, I accidentally proposed. For seven days, my "psychic soothing" was actually a courtship ritual to the two shifter cubs I took home. Overnight, the fuzzy orphans transformed into two massive, naked, and dangerously handsome men who know exactly what I did. Now my house is a volatile war zone of animalistic jealousy, ruined furniture, and pure possessiveness. To survive the chaos, I forced a three-month evaluation contract. Two Alphas, one evaluation sheet, and a human woman trying not to get eaten alive. Welcome to my backyard.
