Marked by My Secondhand Delivery Wolf

To save on the outrageous wages of hired movers, I, Jade Lawson, bought a werewolf who had been returned three times from a secondhand trading site.

The seller warned me he was vicious, wild, and prone to biting.

What caught my eye wasn't his temperament. It was his build. Six foot three, solid muscle, the kind of body that looked like it could haul six hundred pounds of packages without breaking a sweat.

When he arrived, he was indeed vicious.

He kept sneaking into my room at night, pressing his scorching body against mine and grinding his teeth against the back of my neck.

I thought he was teething. Or worse, developing rabies. I contacted the seller immediately to request a return.

After hearing my description, the seller went quiet for a long time.

"We don't recommend returning him."

"He's not teething. Werewolves only feel the urge to bite the back of their mate's neck during their rut phase. It's a mate-marking instinct."

"He wants you. He's trying to get you to bear his pups."

......

I was the owner of a courier station on the verge of bankruptcy.

To cut costs, I had let go of all my movers and decided to buy cheap labor off a secondhand biological trading platform.

My budget was three thousand dollars.

My criteria were simple—male, strong, durable, low food consumption.

The page refreshed, and a werewolf highlighted in red popped up.

The listing read, "Premium Northwest Wastes bloodline. S-class physique. Extremely violent temperament. Has bitten three previous buyers. Discounted for quick sale."

The price was two thousand five hundred dollars.

I stared at the photo.

The man in it was chained in iron shackles, eyes dark and feral. But the muscles on his bare arms were sculpted and powerful, his shoulders broad and built for heavy labor.

Perfect manual labor material.

As for the biting?

The previous buyers probably tried to keep him as a pet.

I needed a worker. Feed him, make him work. Worst case, I'd buy a muzzle.

I purchased him without hesitation.

The seller replied instantly.

"Just to confirm, are you absolutely sure you want this one? He's on the edge of his rut phase and highly aggressive. If he refuses to obey and you get hurt, we do not cover medical expenses."

I replied, "It's fine. I don't care if he's fierce. As long as he can carry refrigerators and washing machines, we're good."

The seller fell silent.

"Understood. Since you're prepared, we'll ship him immediately. We'll also include a high-voltage shock collar as a complimentary gift. If he doesn't listen, you may use it."

I thanked them.

Three days later, a massive iron cage was delivered to the entrance of my courier station.

The delivery man dropped it and bolted, as if he'd just unloaded a living disaster.

I cut the seal with a pair of scissors.

The cage door swung open.

A towering figure stepped out.

He was even taller than in the photos. The metal