YEAST OF EDEN

Jamela could do this. Fast and furious. In and out. Like a cat. She'd sneak up to the gate, drop her delivery and bolt like there was no tomorrow. Right. It was a plan.

She nibbled her lower lip as her small car crunched over the gravel driveway that led to the Wilder pack alpha's house. Or rather, Billy's house. Because of course she embarrassed the hell out of herself in front of the Wilder alpha. Of course.

She blamed the oversight on lack of sleep and pearl necklace laced cookies. Even now, the memory of Dianthe explaining such a thing to the alpha made her cringe. She was so not winning sister/mom of the year. Jamela couldn't even fall back on the "that's what shifter teens do" excuse like most the other kids in Wilder. Their little mongrel family unit was made of shifters and yet they weren't. And they definitely hadn't been raised in a shifter pack, pride, or clan.

Anyway, it didn't matter. She'd drop off her cookies and never see him again. Hell, if the pack was run like others they'd encountered over the years, she wouldn't even see him now. A quick drive up to the gate, a shove of boxes into the hands of Billy's sentinels and then away she'd go.

And if he ever came into the shop again... She'd hide. Cats did that when they were upset or hurt and she was upset so ergo, ipso facto, and all those other weird terms. She was gone.

She released a relieved sigh, happy now that she had a plan.

A single howl cut through the night, slicing into the darkness and sinking into her car with ease. The sound should have sent a tingle of unease down her spine. It should have concerned her-cats were not scared of dogs, just cautious-but it touched her in other ways instead. Other nipple-hardening ways and that was just wrong.

Wrong.

Then another howl joined the first, followed by a few yips and barks until that wolf released its moon call. With each passing moment, more and more added to the wolfen symphony until they overrode her radio. The more noise, the greater her concern-not fright-grew. The volume, the swell of howls, told her exactly what she was dealing with. Dozens of wolves.

But they're not after me. They're not chasing me home from school and they're not cornering me in an alley and they're not...

She rounded a final bend, slowing her vehicle as she approached a set of wide, wrought iron gates firmly shut before her. She brought it to a gentle stop, not wanting to make any sudden moves that would pique a wolf's interest.

Sure, the pack was out for a run, probably as a precursor to the party, but that didn't mean the entry was left unguarded. And hell, they were probably pissed at being left out of the festivities. She'd finally wiggled more information out of Dianthe and discovered tonight's gathering was a joint bachelor and bachelorette party.

Which involved semi-naughty cookies and an all-night run. And for wolves, an all-night run included an evening filled with hunting and sex. Or rather, hunting for sex.

Billy is out there... hunting, chasing, searching...

Jamela shuddered, a tendril of arousal and desire slinking into her veins. In her mind, it was her he chased, followed through the forest and finally pounced. The lioness being caught by the wolf.

With a shake of her head, she popped her car into park and remained still as one of the largest men she'd ever seen strode from the shadows. He was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, the fabric snug on his body, and she wondered if that was because he simply liked tight clothing or if his beast was on edge and threatening to break free. Jamela had experienced that sensation more than once in her life. Threaten her sisters and her lioness leapt forward, stretching the fabric and sometimes tearing it to shreds as her shift edged closer. Hate. Menace. Anger.

Her cat prowled, disliking the nearness of this wolf. It wanted out, wanted to protect itself and the extended threat he posed to their small cub. No matter Dianthe's age, she'd always be Jamela's cub. She nudged the animal back, fighting the ache in her gums and the stinging that encompassed her skin. The bitch was pushing hard, growing stronger the nearer this massive wolf came. The glow from her headlights fell on him, illuminating him in a brief flash, but it was enough.

Enough to see his amber eyes and misshapen jaw, the light dusting of gray fur on his cheeks and the growing nails on his hands.

Jamela's cat immediately reacted to the impending threat. Her skin rippled, a gentle wave that undulated through her and left golden fur in its wake. Her vision flashed, colors changing and the night slowly came into focus through her feline's eyes. Her gaze darted through the space, cataloging her surroundings in a rapid glance.

The wolf wasn't alone-at least four others lingered along the tree line. Two were wolves while the others remained on two feet, their claws reflecting snippets of moonlight.

Five against one. Great odds.

The nearer he came, the more uneasy she grew, her lioness pacing and snarling and she couldn't remain trapped inside her vehicle. She knew what was coming and cursed herself again and again for coming to the pack house, for not begging Emma to do it for her. Emma was human, she wouldn't have been bothered or threatened by the pack.

A lioness on the other hand...

Why? Why? Why?

Because I wanted to see him again...

God, she was such an idiot.

Whatever. She'd fought off more wolves than this in the past. Sure, the last time was when she was twenty-forever ago-but she could take them.

Had to take them.

Before he got too close, she threw her door open, leaving it wide as she took a step out of the vehicle. She tugged off her jacket and tossed it into her car. "I'm here at your alpha's invitation."

The large man halted for a moment, his yellowed eyes narrowing at her. "I know you. You're-"

"Mine," Billy snapped, emerging from the shadows.

The power of an alpha flicked through the air, unseen but no less powerful. The men who'd remained in the darkness retreated silently and the massive male before her froze in place. His gaze remained locked on Jamela while he tilted his head to the side. Not in submission to her, but the large, approaching male. The alpha's anger was hot and heavy in the air and her cat purred at the first hint of that scent. It knew the carefully banked rage wasn't at her but on her behalf and that had the lioness' motors running.

"Leave, Seth, we'll talk later." Billy's voice was harsh.

"Alpha..." the male growled, his eyes remaining locked on Jamela's as he curled his lip in a clear threat. His fang gleamed in the moonlight, her cat's eyes easily picking up the move.

Another wave of that power, that innate strength, manifested itself and crashed over them. A low whimper came from the trees and she realized the others had disappeared from sight but hadn't left. "I didn't stutter, Seth. Not this afternoon when I told you of her impending arrival and not now."

"She's a cat." Seth spat Jamela's species as if it were a curse.

To wolves it was.

"She's a guest." Billy didn't stop or slow his approach, merely strode past Seth and came to her side, curling his arm around her and laying it across her shoulders. "My guest, Seth. Leave us."

She wasn't going to address the fact that Billy was naked. Naked and standing beside her and his bare skin was brushing against her arm and he was a little sweaty but that just made him hotter and...

She slowly drew in a long breath, drinking in his scent. She brushed off the stinging aroma of his anger and instead focused on him. The musk and man and forest that clung to his body. She felt herself heating, body reacting to his delicious nearness and her lioness purred in welcome. She was reacting to him, his presence, and his voice as she had earlier in the day. Wanting him. Needing him. Craving him.

When Billy breathed deeply and released the air with a low rumble, she knew he scented her desire and she cursed herself. Couldn't she keep it together in front of the guy?

Apparently not.

"Alpha..." Seth tried again.

"One second. That's all you have left. One second and then I will remove you myself." Billy's words were quiet and soft but solid and unbending. He'd get Seth away from her. Period.

She didn't want to acknowledge how that made her feel.

With one last glare at Jamela, Seth spun on his heel and stomped for the tree line, tearing his clothes off as he moved. She didn't allow herself to breathe until he was gone, her cat's senses no longer picking up his presence. The moment she relaxed, Billy released her. She swallowed the threatening whine that rose in her throat, her feline pissed at the loss.

He'd stood up for them against his own kind. His own pack. And that was a heady aphrodisiac.

"The cookies are in the trunk?" Billy stepped farther away. "Pop it for me."

"What?" She shook her head, the rapid withdrawal and change in him practically leaving her with whiplash.

"Pop the trunk. I'll get the cookies and you can leave." His words were sharp, tone brusque.

Leave. Right. She hadn't wanted to come anyway, so why did she care that he was kicking her off his land?

Because she did. Because her lioness did.

"Sure. Sorry." She nodded and leaned into her car, tugging on the little lever that granted him access to the back of the car.

The moment he could, he reached into the truck and grabbed a couple boxes. "Come grab these. Take them to the house."

Was he talking to her? No. The other males strode from the darkness, doing as their alpha ordered and only glaring at her when Billy couldn't see them. Another reason to leave and never return. In moments her car was empty, the still-nude Billy carrying the last two boxes.

He strode toward her, pausing beside her for a brief moment. "Do I owe you anything?"

Jamela shook her head. "No, it was prepaid." She fell back on her professionalism, ignoring the lingering scent of his arousal and her own need. "Thank you for using Yeast of Eden for your event needs. Please think of us again in the future."

Billy opened his mouth as if to say something, but she didn't want to listen to his brush off. She'd been polite and she didn't have it in her heart to be friendly now that he was kicking her to the curb. "Have a good evening and pass my congratulations to the happy couple."

Without hesitating another moment, she climbed into the driver's seat and tugged the door closed, ignoring the sight of a nude Billy, pretending not to see the way the dim glow of her headlights outlined every dip and curve of his heavily muscled body. Or the fact that his cock was long and thick. She definitely didn't imagine what it'd feel like in her hand, against her palm as she brought the tip to her mouth...

Tearing her attention from him, she shifted into reverse, looking over her shoulder as she backed away from the forbidding gate. She continued until she reached a wider spot on the driveway, quickly performing a three-point turn until she was driving straight back to the road that'd brought her to pack lands. She ignored the wolves racing along beside her, their dark coats making them blend into the shadows but not quite enough.

Her cat still saw them.

Her cat still wanted to chase and pounce on them.

No, not them. Him.

"Saw you talking to the cat earlier. Good job flashing your dick everywhere. At least you didn't get hard while you were eye-fucking her," Kade, Billy's beta and general pain in the ass, drawled.

Billy ignored the other male. The party was long over, place empty save Kade and a few other wolves who called the pack house home. He leaned against the wall by the bay window that looked over the estate's massive gates. They were swinging shut behind the last of his wolves, leaving them alone in the secured area.

Alone. He'd sent her away. He'd never felt more alone than he did at that moment. His most trusted pack members were close, Kade even closer, and yet... he was lonely. His wolf howled in need, begging-begging-him to find Jamela. It clawed and scraped, snarling and whining that they let her go and they needed to get her back. Now.

"Fuck off, Kade." It was a half-hearted dismissal at best and he knew his friend wouldn't listen to a damn thing he said.

"No, really." Kade stepped forward and held out a bottle of beer, Billy watching the movement in the window's reflection. "Smooth. Real smooth."

Asshole.

Billy turned and grasped the cool bottle, bringing it to his mouth and swallowing some of the brew. It went down quick and cold and did nothing to calm his wolf. Hell, he'd have to bathe in the stuff, get an IV and pump pure alcohol into his veins, to get the beast to chill the fuck out. He took another swig, enjoying the sweet slide down his throat, refusing to say another word. Hell, what could he say?

"You pissed off Seth though, man."

Billy grunted. Yeah, he had. He sent his strongest sentinel scurrying off in favor of helping a feline. It would have been fine if Jamela was human, but choosing a feline over the male... Not pretty.

"And that pissed off some of the others," Kade continued.

Another grunt. He didn't have to justify himself. "They know where my office is and they know the phase of the moon."

Let 'em try and kick his ass, take the position of alpha by force. With the way his wolf was behaving, he'd appreciate a way to exhaust the animal.

"That's not the answer."

Yeah, maybe not. But he didn't want to talk about wolves acting like children. "How'd everyone know she's a cat? I didn't scent anything on her, just the younger sister, Dianthe. She's a bear. Jamela though..."

He tasted Kade's disbelief on the air a split second before his voice broke through the quiet. "You're kidding, right? How do you not know about those three?"

Billy set his beer bottle on the windowsill and turned, resting his back against the wall. "Three?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "I told you about the three half-shifter sisters moving into Wilder. Maybe four or five years ago. Marcia's been best friends with Dianthe for at least that long. They don't hang out here for obvious reasons..."

Billy nodded. He'd discovered his pack's true feelings for other types of shifters tonight. They were all getting intensive, possibly violent, sensitivity training in the near future. He wasn't the alpha of a pack of bigoted assholes. "Yeah."

Kade shrugged. "The youngest is Dianthe Price. She's a werebear. Then there's Liv Ross who's a weretiger. The eldest is Jamela Cross, a werelion. They're half-sisters. Jamela practically raised the other two until she turned eighteen and her mom split. Now she takes care of them both full time and runs the bakery."

Billy shook his head. "Four years?"

"Probably closer to five. I'm sure I told you about them." Kade's shock was evident in his tone.

"I'm not calling you a liar. Why didn't anyone in the pack bitch? Is she affiliated with anyone?" Did Jamela owe her allegiance to someone? Did Billy have to kill them so she was free to swear herself to him? His heart thumped double-time, the thought coming out of nowhere, but he didn't have the energy to push it away.

Because he didn't want to push it away.

"The middle sister is accepted as a part of the tiger pride in Clover which also lets her join the University of Georgia's student pride. That's connected to the Southeast regional pride. The youngest goes over to run with the Hart bear clan every full moon."

"Our allies," Billy murmured. "And Jamela?"

Where did she run? Where did she let her cat out? Was it safe?

Why did he care? Because he did. His wolf did. There was no rhyme or reason. Simply a soul-deep need to make sure she was safe and cared for. That all parts of her were satisfied at the end of the day.

"Jamela..." Kade rubbed his jaw and Billy fought the urge to deck his beta for even uttering the woman's name. "I think they allow her to come to Clover with Liv and run if she wants, but allow and welcome aren't the same. Dianthe never mentioned anything about her sister's arrangements."

"How much time are you spending with Dianthe? What about Jamela?" If Billy's beta was hanging around his woman and that teenager, he'd...

Kade gave him a bland look. "Really? I'm about to be mated and Dee isn't turning eighteen for another two months. She's my little sister's best friend. Every time I go to my mother's, the girl is there studying or dying her hair or whatever else kids do."

Billy snorted. "You make us sound so old."

"Hell, we are old. Fucking Marcia is getting ready to graduate from high school."

"And fucking. How did that conversation go?"

Kade groaned. "Oh, God. I can't believe her. I know we have high sex drives that kick in at sixteen, but knowing and talking about it to my kid sister are two very different things. And for her to go on and on with Dee." He shook his head. "I set her straight, but I'm not sure how long it'll last. I'm gonna kill the next kid who gets near her, though."

He chuckled. "I can't wait for you to have pups of your own."

"I'm warning you now. I'll murder anyone who even looks at my baby girl cross-eyed, let alone if they're thinking about their dick when they're with her." Kade's voice was harsh and filled with his wolf, the animal wanting to destroy a threat to his child. A child that didn't even exist yet.

"Duly noted," he murmured and reached for his beer, draining the bottle with one last swig. "You didn't answer my other question. Why can't I scent her? Can anyone?"

"Her animal, you mean?" Kade raised his eyebrows and Billy nodded. "Sometimes it's that way for half-shifters. They get some things and not others. All three can shift, but when they're in their human form, they have their own quirks. Dee has issues with controlling her eyesight. Jamela's scent doesn't really change until she shifts, but sometimes you can catch a hint of her cat. Liv has the occasional hiccup with a partial shift if she gets frightened."

"Huh." Billy hadn't ever dealt with half-shifters.

Their pack was made up of pure breed and changed wolves. No one got a human pregnant, or got pregnant by a human. They just... didn't. He wondered if that was because his pack didn't like humans or if it was something ingrained by his father or grandfather. He didn't feel the desire to stay away from them, but maybe it went deeper than that for others. He couldn't pinpoint why he'd never thought of mating a human. He just... hadn't. Hell, he hadn't even dated-fucked-one.

He knew of a female who was at least half human that he wanted to fuck. All night. Every night. For the rest... of... their... lives?

His wolf howled, telling him he was sure as shit right about wanting her for forever. His fur rippled beneath his skin, fingernails aching as the animal tried to force his way out. It didn't like that he'd sent Jamela away with a curt goodbye, didn't like the heartache and pain in her eyes. It definitely didn't like the hungry stares from his pack as they watched her retreat.

Billy had snapped and snarled at them, nipping when necessary and biting when he caught a couple chasing her car down the driveway. He wasn't sure about Jamela, what drew him to her, but everything in him demanded he protect her, care for her, and make sure not a single tendril of fear ever hit her blood.

The only true way to ensure all that was to never leave her side.

The idea had merit. Damn good merit.

What. The. Fuck.

Jamela had no idea what she was seeing. Well, that was a stretch. Beautiful little rows of cookies, snug in their cookie sheets, were spread out on the stainless steel counter, and she knew what she was looking at. Around 4:00 a.m., she had made multiple batches while preparing the orders for cupcakes, brownies, and mini-tarts for the day. In order to prepare for the casual clients, there was also the standard day's supply.

She was gazing at her sister's magnificent works of art, so everything else was irrelevant. Not Jamela's words, but her sister's. Never Jamela's. The thing in front of her was so anti-masterpiece that it should have been sent to the ninth circle of hell. The devil would still stare at her and ask, "What the fuck is this?" "What the fucking fuck?" or like or even "How do you know about this when you're only seventeen?"

The buyer would undoubtedly be offended if it offended Satan.

She had absolutely no time for this. She looked at her watch and saw that Yeast of Eden, the bakery she operated with her two sisters, was an hour away from opening at 7:30 a.m. The cookies that were put out in front of her were meant to be ready for the customer to pick up at eight o'clock, already decorated and packaged. It was an easy job. Since opening four years ago, their bakery has finished dozens of jobs in one form or another.

However...

Jamela inhaled deeply while trying to remain composed while gazing at her youngest sister's creation. In the background, her inner lioness paced, snarling and telling her that they had to prove to Dianthe who was in charge. That she should always listen to Jamela, and that her lioness would do the same if the seventeen-nearly eighteen-year-old girl couldn't

She forced herself to accept Jamela's human half, pushing the animal to the back of her consciousness. Her entire life had been like this. Her control wasn't as strong as others' because she wasn't a true shifter. Despite not being the same kind of shifter, the three brothers shared the same problems. Because of her mother's fascination with lions, tigers, and bears-oh my-all three of her sisters gradually learned how to make up for the purported "lack." She was accused because she dared a pure breed to confront her with the words. She challenged them.)

Hehe.

One more deep breath. "Dee, could you just walk me through your reasoning for this one?"

"What's the matter?" Dianthe scowled, her eyes darting from the cookies to Jamela and back again. "The colors are correct." Dianthe's eyes narrowed. Before I began, you gave your approval for the colors. You accepted the icing when I brought it to you. No refunds.

She shook her head, "No." "I will not retract my endorsement of the colors."

They were approved by her. After Jamela discovered that Dee thought purple was pink, or at least pinkish, it became a new rule at the bakery. Then it was-was Jamela aware that Dee was experiencing eye problems? Did werebears always struggle with color because

"Oh. Excellent. Because I put a lot of effort into them. Dianthe's gum popped. Most likely because she was aware of how annoying it would be for Jamela. Then I fail to see why you're such a grumpy jerk. I mean, I'm halfway done, and these don't need to be ready until eight, and it's six thirty. I'll finish early. I ought to receive some sort of bonus. Her youngest sister held out her hand and jerked her head in a nod as though it had already been decided. Can you give me a heads-up on that? I'm meeting Shawn-I mean, Stacy-in the diner for breakfast after my shift ends at eight.

Jamela's nose was pinched. "We'll talk about Shawn-Stacy in a moment." primarily because Dianthe had to avoid boys forever. Alright, take a deeper breath. Instead of only listening to her serenity recordings when she was about to murder her siblings, she needed to listen to them every day. Not when the person who irritated her the most was less than three feet away. "For now, tell me what these white icing droplets stand for."

She was aware of Dianthe's next words. knew. It. She was simply unwilling to find out. After all, what else can white frosting drips on corset cookies symbolize? For bachelor parties, they were usually among the best-selling items for men who wanted to get sexy with some breasts without upsetting their partners or future wives. Thus, Babeless Boob cookies were created by Yeast of Eden. slender, over-proportioned cookies with a corseted waist. While some corsets were pale pink with dark pink piping, others were red with black piping. Nice and naughty. White was the one color she could not find in any combination for her décor.

Furthermore, the cookie cleavage should not be decorated with white drips. Never.

Thankfully, she had refrained from allowing Dianthe to decorate the penis cookies. She wished to prevent her younger sister from thinking, seeing, or talking about penises. Never.

She didn't want her sister to ever do a lot of things. Never, ever.

"Well, um." She shifted about. "I spoke with Marcia-"

Marcia was the world's sweetest girl, but she was definitely out of Virginland now. However, since Marcia wasn't her responsibility, it wasn't her point.

"-and Lucas and Marcia were conversing-"

Speaking in Marcialand meant having sex, Jamela bet. Once more, it is not her argument. Marcia, the sister of the beta of the local pack, was a werewolf. When all those teenage hormones attacked, Jamela reminded herself that wolves were very sexual and that banging was a better way to release tension than tearing each other to pieces. Because 1) they couldn't contract diseases and 2) they couldn't become pregnant until after their first heat, she knew that adolescent sex was permissible. Those who were seventeen-almost eighteen-had not yet experienced heat.

"-and she learned about pearl necklaces from Lucas."

For heaven's sake.

"And that guys adore seeing-"

With a gesture and a gaze that vowed punishment, Jamela raised her hand to silence her sister. "I never want to hear about them from you, no matter what. Never. Please, for my sanity. She struggled to locate her core. As said in all of her dumb tranquility tapes. Those fucking tapes weren't created by a parent of a teenager. "Unless you intend to investigate them in person. Consequently, don't.

Dianthe let out a groan. "Jamela..."

She shook her head, "No." "Non-negotiable."

"Don't you realize that everything with you is non-negotiable?"

"Yes."

"Jamela is the expert." Dianthe gave an eye roll.

Dianthe gave her another eye roll as she said, "Jamela knows she doesn't want her sister knocked up before she's married or at least graduated from college and has a stable job with a 401K." "Do any of them not have 'pearl necklaces'?"

Jamela was forced to stare down the line as Dianthe nipped her lips.

No. "No" was the response.

"Well, we could decorate the Dudeless Dong cookies with white icing and then-"

"No," she yelled. "First of all, you should never approach a dong, cookie or not." Never. Never, ever. "And two, those kinds of desserts are not what we sell."

"You sell bow-tied dong cookies, but not ones with icing cu-"

She covered Dianthe's mouth with her hand this time. "I don't want to know how you know I tied bow ties on them, and I won't say another word." She took a quick look at the wall clock and mentally calculated how much time she would need and what call she would need to make. Fantastic. "I'll contact the customer and start re-baking these while you go open the store and take care of breakfast. Do you understand?

Jamela took her hand away. "But Stacy is waiting for me, Shawn."

"Shawn-Stacy and his penis can wait until you're finished with your morning, kid-I wasn't born yesterday." Since the girl was three, Jamela had not been fooled by Dianthe's protrusion of her lower lip. She also started thinking about suffocating Dianthe when she slept at that time. She was reintroducing the possibility, even though it was clear that she hadn't. He can also keep his pearl necklace and penis to himself if he can't wait a few hours. Do you understand?

"All right," Dianthe sighed. "There is no worse sister than you."

Yes, indeed. Open the store and don't call for me unless you're dying or the place is on fire. She let out a sigh, grabbed the order receipt off the bulletin board, and walked slowly to her office, leaving the door open in case Dianthe had set it on fire and been dying.

She moaned after taking a quick look at the slip. Naturally, the order was for the soon-to-be mated beta of the werewolf pack. The pack house's beta resident. Naturally. She usually offered to deliver the order when there was a hiccup like this, but she didn't feel comfortable walking onto pack property. Hell, she might be lucky enough to be refused entry. That would be fantastic. She would then be spared the whole "cat versus dog"-er, "wolf"-situation.

After all, they were dogs, sort of. Their middle sister Liv was half weretiger, Jamela was half werelion, and Dianthe was half werebear, which was the only reason she hadn't had any issues. Their mother was a wereho, indeed.

Taking up the cordless phone, Jamela hurriedly dialed the number while hearing it ring. She started mentally formulating her speech, attempting to be both firm and apologetic when the familiar sound rattled three times. She wasn't easily intimidated. In general.

She waited patiently for the voicemail system to, uh, do its job when the fourth ring and subsequent click sounded, but all she heard was nothing.

A pause, followed by the words "Addams residence."

Two words. A couple of words and She shuddered, excitement piercing her hot and fast, and she changed from being a company owner to a needy whore in the space of one heartbeat.

Whore, needy.

There was a deep voice that stroked you in all the right places, followed by a needy whore with wet underwear. She was energized. through a voice.

She could never meet the person who had that voice. Indeed, there was no assurance that she would indeed run into the owner of that voice if she brought the cookies, but-

"Hey? Is there anyone present?

Did she just let out a whimper? She was fairly certain that it did. Jamela didn't moan, whine, or whimper.

"Hello?"

He sounded irritated, I see. Annoyed and sexy and Jamela finally found her voice. I apologize. Wrong number."

And then before she could second-guess herself, she ended the call. Now that she'd spoken to Mr. Sexy Voice, she needed help.

This person she rang answered immediately. Like a normal human being. "Lush, Emma speaking, how can I-"

"Emma? It's Jamela."

"What's up, Tills?"

"I need new panties and I need you to make a call for me."

Emma ran the best (and only) lingerie store that catered to curvy women in Wilder along with a kick ass website that had an awesome web business.

"Because..."

Jamela whined. Look at her, the non-whining Jamela whining again. "Because I said so?"

"Try again."

"Fine," she grumbled, knowing her BFF wouldn't give in. She rolled her chair toward the door and peeked into the kitchen and beyond to see Dianthe behind the counter. "Because I made a call this morning and..." She sighed. "Wet panties."

"That... is not enough information. Try again."

"Wet. Panties." And a panting lioness. The damn animal was acting as if it was starving and it wanted to feed on the man attached to that voice. And by feed, it meant hours of mind-blowing sex. A man who sounded like that... It'd be a criminal shame for him to suck in the sack.

"A little more for me, hon."

Making sure, once again, that Dianthe was occupied, she spoke to Emma. "I called a customer this morning because their order won't be ready on time."

"But you always meet your deadlines."

Yeah, unless my sister decides to put cum necklaces on my cookies. "Just... Dianthe." Emma's ahh told her nothing else needed to be said. "So I called, and oh my God, Emma. His voice. Pure. Sex. I mean... my cat wants him more than the damn cow I took down with the pride two weeks ago."

"Ew. I mean, yay for wanting to boink him, but I don't need to hear about raw cow consumption. And why the hell are you still going to Clover to hunt when we have perfectly nice woods around here?"

Wolf-owned woods. "Can we focus on our current situation, please?"

"We are totally revisiting this though, right?"

They revisited the issue pretty damned often. Emma kept assuring her that the Wilder pack was nothing like any other their mongrel family had encountered before. Well, Emma was a human and just couldn't understand the dynamics of shifter relationships. Jamela wasn't willing to risk the heartache or the pain Dianthe would experience from more rejection. Going two towns over for a hunt was just fine for them.

"Fine. We can revisit. After you bring me panties and make a phone call."

"Why am I doing this again? Pick up the phone. Call him back. Do your job, then ask him what he's wearing. Get that phone sex ball rolling."

The idea had merit. A lot, actually. Sadly, she would not take her friend's advice.

"Because when I said I really enjoyed his voice I really enjoyed his voice. Or rather, part of me did."

Silence. Pure silence. "Did it enjoy things a lot or just a little bit?"

"I... I just... panties, Emma. Please."

"And a phone call."

"Uh-huh."

"To whom?"

"The hot guy so I don't need two pairs?"

But no, her problems could not be happily solved by a phone call to Emma because...

Dianthe. The whirlwind world destroyer also known as Dianthe. "Jamela? Why do you need panties? What hot guy? Did you sneak a guy back here? Because that's not fair. You said no boys-"

That wasn't the worst part. There wasn't much privacy in her house and that was something she'd come to expect. She was raising a teenager. At least it was only one. When it'd been a tween Dianthe and a teen Liv... she'd nearly killed them both. Often.

"Hold on one sec," Jamela spoke to Emma and then took the twentieth calming breath of the hour. "Dianthe, I don't have a guy here, I was talking about the guy on the pho-" she slowly turned toward the door and froze.

Dianthe wasn't alone. Of course not. Never could Dianthe show up alone when Jamela was having a lovely embarrassing-as-hell conversation with her best friend about wet panties and a hot guy.

"Jamela, this is Billy. He said he thinks you called him about something a little bit ago. And he was coming out this way anyway so he thought he'd stop in to see if you needed to talk to him." Dianthe slumped her shoulders and did her best to look pitiful. It was a look she'd perfected after all this time. "Have I worked long enough now? Can I go see..."

Jamela now knew why animals in the wild killed their offspring.