Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
She eyed him closely for long moments before turning away. He watched as she ran, played, clawed trees, hunted.
After a while, they returned to the house. She shifted first, and her human half looked down at him. Her mouth curving, she said, “Hi.” Like her cat had earlier, she remained still, just watching him.
He still wasn’t too sure he liked having another person in his space, but it didn’t matter. She was his to protect. So the cat held back a moody growl and shifted.
Isaiah pushed to his feet, relieved his animal had been so well-behaved. “That went well enough.”
“It did,” she said, clearly relieved.
“Your cat sure has a lot of energy.”
“Dude, that was nothing. She can run for literally hours.”
He frowned. “But she won’t, right? I know black-foots are roamers, but we’re not like the Crimson Pride—we don’t have lots of land where she can run free without worry of being attacked.”
“She won’t go too far,” Quinley assured him, snatching her panties from the floor.
“What are you doing?”
“Uh, redressing?”
“No point in that.” He took the panties from her hand. “I’m about to fuck you, and I’d rather you were naked for that.”
“Oh. Well. Okay, then.”
CHAPTER TEN
Studying the Alpha pair’s Christmas tree, Quinley tossed another salted chip in her mouth. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a zombie tree topper before.”
Beside her, Aspen smiled and put a hand to her chest. “It was a gift from me.”
“I don’t like to use it,” said Havana, drawing Quinley’s attention back to where the devil sat on the sofa with Bailey. “But Aspen kept switching the topper, knowing it’d eventually reach a point where I couldn’t be bothered changing it back.”
“How can you not like it?” demanded Aspen. “Look at it. It makes a statement.”
Havana stared at her evenly. “Yes, it says, ‘The person who bought this is a fucking nut.’”
A sniff from the bearcat. “I resent that.”
“Go forth and resent. It won’t make it untrue.” Havana swigged some of her soda. “You’re the one who loves zombies, I don’t know why you didn’t buy it for yourself …” She trailed off at Aspen’s shifty expression. “Oh my God, you bought it for yourself. Camden wanted no part of it, so you regifted it to me.”
“You’re only just considering that?” Bailey asked the Alpha. “Wow.”
Havana tossed a piece of popcorn at her, but the mamba moved fast and caught it with her mouth.
Chomping it down, Bailey grinned with pride.
“I want to hate you,” Havana told her. “I tried in the beginning. Really hard. It didn’t work.”
Still smiling, Bailey shrugged. “I’m just so utterly loveable.”
Aspen blinked at the mamba. “Yeah, that’s not what it is.”
Quinley stifled a smile and ate another chip. In the short time she’d been part of the pride, she’d come to learn that the three females were incredibly tight. A lot of shit talk went on, and Aspen’s bearcat often got into it with Bailey’s mamba. But the love and loyalty between the trio was set in concrete.
They often checked in on Quinley when Isaiah wasn’t home, inviting her to hang out at Havana’s house. Much as Quinley liked her alone time, she wanted to get to know her new pride mates—especially those who were part of Isaiah’s immediate circle.
He and Quinley had only been mated five days now, but it somehow felt like longer. They’d started to brush up against each other’s quirks and pet peeves; were learning where and where not to step so no hot buttons were pressed. They’d developed a rhythm that worked for them and managed to share the same space just fine.
Quinley returned to the armchair. “Isaiah said you three work at a rec center for loners.”
“We do.” Havana knocked back more soda. “The place was our haven when we were younger. The guy who runs it, Corbin, took us in.”
“I seriously considered becoming a lone shifter,” said Quinley, “but my sisters were dead-set against it and begged me to find another way out of the pride.”
Aspen gave a nod of understanding. “Loners are easy targets. We encountered a lot of trouble growing up. It’d be so much more dangerous for a submissive. Not that I’m saying you’re weak—”
“I know what you’re saying,” Quinley assured her, unoffended. “And you’re right. By nature, we’re vulnerable to dominants. Their vibes can oppress us enough that it makes it hard for us to fight back. We learn tricks to get around it, but they don’t always work. Hence why my sisters freaked at the idea of me becoming a loner. They asked that I just seek a simple transfer.”
“But you wanted a mate,” said Aspen, taking the other armchair.
“Yes. I also didn’t want to go to another black-foot pride.” In between more bites of her chips, Quinley explained about the whole ranked and unranked division in such prides.