Flynn
Pissed-off Alpha
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Not only did they get their feelings all over her, but he fucked her! I slam out of the stables with such intense heat inside of me that my skin feels ready to set alight.
Not comfortable for a bunyip shifter, we're swamp cats. Big, scary, but usually cold and wet. I like being icy, I don't like having one of my mates carry a stranger over his shoulder.
He fucked her.
He knew that would start this whole damn avalanche of problems. Either the rest of us finish what he started or I kill her. We are so far beyond getting to know her now its not even funny. Shifters were designed to mate for life from the beginning. One partner, one bond. Well, one shifter partner. Fucking a mortal or any other kind of magical person doesn't count – just shifters. And there's so few of us left.
Get to know her, or kill her now? Hard decision, and one I can't make sober.
I mount my horse, not looking back at the flurry of action as the others mount up too. Then losing that resolve to note the girl on Tas' horse.
Fuck this shit. I click my tongue, lifting the rains of my horse and the creature surges forward in instant submission. Good horse.
Bad mates.
We ride for the forest, into our kingdom, then straight to the pub. I do my best thinking at the pub, and it'll be easier to end her nice and quietly once the rest of them are drunk too.
"Where's he going?" Steve calls out.
"The pub," I declare.
Their enthusiasm echoes behind me, and without argument we move, as a team, a mob, toward home. Exactly as it should – except for the dead woman on Tas' lap.
Dinner? Maybe.
Tasty? Possibly, she's a shifter.
Going to change my mind? Not likely.
Dead.