I Keep Myself Alive by Petting the Wolf Lord

A sweet romance with a love-struck male lead, devoted affection, and no heartbreak.

In my previous life, I was the zoo’s head zookeeper. Then I transmigrated into the body of a princess sent away to marry the Northern Wolf Lord.

They say he is savage and cruel, able to tear apart a wolf with his bare hands, and that none of his concubines live longer than three months.

On my first night in the palace, he bared his teeth and growled as he lunged at me. I dodged to the side, caught his chin, and expertly inspected his gums.

“Open wide. Say ‘ahhh.’ Your gums are swollen and your stomach fire is too strong. I’ll put together some cooling herbs for you starting tomorrow.”

He was stunned. The next day, he flew into a rage in the main hall and smashed a table with his fist. When I heard about it, I rushed over, ignored the wreckage, and lamented,

“The skin on your knuckles is so thin. Why don’t you take better care of yourself? What if they get injured? Come on, I’ll make you a little claw guard!”

A month later, the court officials watched their once-terrifying Wolf Lord wearing the little scratch-proof mittens I had sewn, holding the special chew stone I had made in his mouth, and obediently crouching beside me as he waited for me to brush his fur.

The High Priest pointed at me with a trembling finger. “Witch! What sorcery have you used on His Majesty?”

I scratched the Wolf Lord under the chin, and he purred contentedly. I spread my hands innocently at the High Priest.

“Nothing special. It just so happens that my field of expertise is training large canines.”