“Anything else?”

Nick shook his head. “If you change your mind about any of your pack staying with me for a while, let me know.” Sharply, he rose from his chair.

“I appreciate the offer and I know that Trey will too, but it won’t be an offer we’ll take you up on, especially when the cause of all the trouble is in the very place you’re proposing I send some of the pack.”

“Yeah, Shaya would kill her,” said Marcus with a smile. When Nick’s gaze shot to him, he nodded. “She may be a submissive wolf, but she knows how to take care of herself better than most people. I suppose we can thank Taryn for that. The pair of them used to train together, and Taryn knows her stuff when it comes to combat.”

Hearing his cell phone ring, Dante fished it out of his pocket. Cam. “Hello. What? ” Motherfucker.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Leaving the Toyota outside Ivy’s house, Jaime, Riley, and Ivy got a cab to Enigma. The place was bigger than most. In fact, it looked more like a large warehouse than a club. The music seemed to vibrate through the ground. The second she entered, an array of odors assailed her: alcohol, lust, sweat, wolf, falcon, lion, jaguar, pure male musk.

Jaime inhaled deeply. The delicious odors, the heat, and the contradictory mix of excitement and satiation all came together and engulfed her, feeding her body’s needy state. A tingle spread through her already sensitive system, settling between her thighs. “I feel like a succubus in heat.”

“I’m not feeling much better,” said Riley. “I could draw blood with my ni**les they’re so damn hard.” As she went to strut off in her tiny red skirt and her barely there white vest, Ivy tugged her backward.

“Oh no, Nala,” chided Ivy.

“I told you to stop calling me that!”

“No going off on your own. Let’s hit the bar first. Then we dance.”

“Sure,” said Jaime, “if we can get through the mass of gyrating bodies.” It was a further two minutes before they found a spot at the bar and were served. “One, two, three, down it!” Simultaneously Jaime, Ivy, and Riley gulped down their tequila shots before slamming the glasses down on the bar. Jaime gave a contended sigh. “That confirms it: happiness is a drink called tequila.”

“That was our fourth, right?” asked Ivy.

“Fifth,” corrected Riley. “Did you notice those guys over there?”

“If you’re referring to the ones about five feet away, staring right at us like we’re big juicy steaks, then yeah.” Going by the fact that their scents were each a combination of pine, wet earth, musk, and wolf, it was easy to guess that they were wolf shifters.

“Cute, aren’t they?” purred Ivy.

“They’re definitely on the prowl,” said Riley.

They most certainly were. Lustful and heated vibes were wafting from them. Jaime could admit to herself that those vibes were having the desired effect. “I quite like the one in the middle.

What about you guys?”

Ivy gave her a concerned look. “You’re really ready to move on from that giant?”

“Yup. I suppose I could continue to embarrass myself, but I’d rather not. Plus, now that he knows how messed up I am, he’s not going to care either way.” During the drive there, she had told them all about what happened at the Rouge Bar. It had taken fifteen minutes to talk Ivy down from placing a curse on Glory.

“Maybe he’s g*y,” offered Riley. “I’m not just saying this because I’m your friend and I love you, but you’re gorgeous and fun, so if he’s not g*y then there has to be something wrong with him if he doesn’t want you. I mean, look around you, there’re plenty of guys giving you looks. Just pick one of them and get Dante out of your system.”

“And you’re definitely over Aidan?” Ivy asked Riley.

“Oh yeah. The two-timing bastard actually had the nerve to accuse me of sleeping around on him. He even accused me of having some kind of affair with you.” A snort popped out of Ivy. “You don’t meet my standards.”

“Bitch,” said Riley affectionately, then pushed her glass away. “Come on, girls, get up. Time to hit the dance floor.”

Jaime couldn’t have agreed more. She hadn’t been there long before a guy—falcon shifter, her nose scented—pressed up against her. She twisted in his arms and locked hers around his neck as they danced. He truly was a gorgeous-looking guy. Her body’s response was “oh yes.” Her wolf’s response was “meh.” Her mind…It felt all wrong to her mind. There was only one guy she really wanted.

But you can’t have him, so stop the pining.

Ordinarily she truly disliked being told what to do, but the voice had a valid point. So she stopped thinking about him and continued to dance with the gorgeous falcon shifter in front of her. His mouth was just coming down to hers when she heard a rumble behind her that made both her and the falcon freeze. A low, lengthy, pissed-fucking-off rumble. At the same time, a familiar delicious scent washed over her, exciting her wolf. What in God’s name was he doing here?

Slowly she pivoted, only to find herself face-to-face with a homicidal-looking Dante: his eyes flashing wolf, his muscles bunched up, his mouth set into a hard line. The falcon—maybe he was dumb or perhaps it was a suicidal urge he was having—placed his hands on her hips in a “she’s taken” gesture. Dante reached out, snatched her wrist, and tugged so hard that her body slammed into his. She thought about struggling but was more worried about the falcon’s fate. He made a move toward Dante.

“I really wouldn’t,” warned Dante, though it wouldn’t be a hardship to punch the prick.

Jaime watched as the falcon halted. As usual, that low tone of Dante’s had the effect of a yell.

Her wolf approved and was instantly aroused by it, just like Jaime’s traitorous body.

Dante held the falcon’s gaze, refusing to let him look away. “Let me tell you what you’re going to do now. You’re going to turn around and walk away. Simple. If you don’t, I will gut you open right here, right now,” he said very matter-of-factly. “And then I’ll feed your intestines to you. From what I hear, they don’t taste great. Want to find out if that’s true?” The falcon glanced at her, and she gave him a “just go” look. A mixture of indignant and agitated, he spun on his heel and walked away. Smart. Jaime tensed as Dante’s eyes suddenly locked on her like a predator watching skittish prey. “What’re you doing here?”