While the rest of the kitchen staff was busy taking measurements and table counts of the club for their head chef, Christiana and Angelina got to work testing their next batch of ice cream. On their third try, the ice cream came out perfectly. Angelina had made sure to record everything they did with both pen and paper and her phone’s video app. That way, they’d be sure to make perfect ice cream every time.

“This was a great idea,” said Christiana. “Angelina, write down whatever other ideas you have for ice cream, even if you think they’re silly. You have a gift for this stuff.”

“You really think so?” asked Angelina.

“I know so,” said Christiana. “The ice cream is good because it’s creamy but has a rich, berry flavor. It’s not too tannic, not too sweet. It’s a bit jammy, but that’s good. The texture is superb. Who knows? Before long, you might be running a kitchen of your own.”

“Oh, I don’t know about all that,” said Angelina.

“We all start somewhere,” said Christiana.

As Christiana stacked their dirty ramekins and spoons, three strange men burst into the kitchen. They weren’t members of the dance troupe. They certainly weren’t chefs. They had no business being there. All three were tall, would have been somewhat attractive if they weren’t so grimy, with strangely gray hair given their youthful looks, but they looked pissed. Real pissed. They were walking right toward Christiana and Angelina.

“Excuse me?” asked Christiana, putting the bowls down. “Can I help you?”

“No, but she can,” said one of the men.

“Ugh,” said Angelina. “Will you three get a hint? I’m not interested.”

“You’re ours,” growled one of the men. He was right in front of Angelina by now.

“I’m nobody’s but mine,” said Angelina, waggling a finger. “Get lost.”

“Not until you get back with us,” said the last man. “Angelina, baby. Come on. You know we’re meant to be. We’re the quad squad.”

“More like the circle jerk of three wolf shifters who couldn’t appreciate a good thing when they had it,” said Angelina. “Too bad that doesn’t fit on a t-shirt, not that any of you should even be fantasizing about my plus-size body.” Angelina motioned over her ample curves and then planted her hands squarely on her round hips.

“You heard the girl. Get lost,” said Christiana. She put her hands across her chest and stared the guys down, nodding her head toward the door.

“This doesn’t concern you,” said the middle man, getting up in Christiana’s face before moving to hassle Angelina.

“It does concern me because she’s my assistant,” said Christiana, getting between that man and Angelina. “If you want to get to her, you’re gonna have to get through me.”

Christiana felt like she was shaking like her homemade strawberry and custard trifle on the inside and just hoped she wasn’t showing her fear on the outside, too. She didn’t care who these bastards were. All she knew was she had to take care of her own.

“You don’t seem to have much of an army,” said the first man, arms crossed. He gestured to the empty kitchen.

“Leave,” said Christiana. “Now.”

“Make me,” said the first man.

Christiana had two angry wolves in her face, their eyes glinting. Wolf shifters were a handful on their own, but in a pack, they were pretty much unstoppable, especially if the person facing them was just a human. Christiana reached for her walkie-talkie, but the last man grabbed it from her before she could press a button and ask for help.

It was just Christiana standing between three wolves and their ex-girlfriend. It was a position that, unlike sixty-nine, nobody wanted to be in. Christiana and Angelina were cornered in the kitchen, facing one angry wolf and flanked by his two friends.

“Get away from them,” shouted a familiar voice, one that was usually warm and jovial, but that sounded stern, domineering, and somehow, more comforting than ever.

Christiana peeked over the tall wolf’s shoulders. Behind the wolves, in the entryway to the kitchen, were two familiar men. It was Chad and Barrett, and Christiana had never seen them like this before. Their chocolate brown eyes were nearly red with rage, and they were on the warpath. They stalked through the kitchen until they reached the trio of men. They were outnumbered, but not even a trio of wolves could scare off a pair of bears that were defending the woman they desired.

Chad pulled away one wolf, hard, knocking him away from the women. The wolf struggled and slipped on some errant egg yolk that had fallen on the ground, his butt hitting the floor with a loud thud, and, looking down at the egg stains on his pants, the wolf started to growl.

“That all you got, Chad?” asked Barrett. “Last time I checked, you’ve got two arms.”

Barrett pulled away the other two wolves, one with each of his arms, grabbing them both by their shoulders and pushing them toward a wall, apart from the third member of the pack. The number one rule about dealing with wolves: separate the pack. Together, they’re strong, but wolves separated lack the strength to take on a bear one on one.

The two wolves who had been pushed to the wall crossed their arms while the third, on the ground, just smirked.

“Typical bears, barging into affairs they have no business in,” said the wolf.

“Get lost,” said Angelina. “I told you three it was over. I am never going to date you three again. I’m tired of all the drama, all the lies. Get out. Now.”

“Not without you,” said one of the wolves. Then, in front of the pair of scared BBWs, he started to shift.

Christiana had only seen shifters shift a handful of times. She had never seen a whole pack of wolves change at once. The alpha on the ground, the beta, and gamma who were against the wall, all shifted together. They were synchronized, but even without their pack sense, they would have all been thinking the same thing.

They wanted Angelina.

She was the prey.

They were hunters.

They weren’t about to back down from the hunt.

Neither were their wolves.

The bodies of the men changed, their muscles and skeletons morphing as their skin became covered in a thick layer of grey fur that looked more than a bit matted. They were larger than regular wolves and looked meaner, too, but these wolves weren’t the only ones with powers.

Barrett circled the wolves while Chad walked over to Angelina and Christiana.

“You need to stay away from the fight,” said Chad, talking to Christiana without looking over at her, keeping his eyes on the wolves that he and Barrett were circling like dogs herding mere sheep, although these were sheep in wolf’s clothing. Chad knew that soon, he’d have them under his paws and out of his club. The only thing that mattered to him was keeping Christiana safe while that happened.

“I…I can’t move,” said Christiana. She had been stunned with fright.

“That’s no problem,” said Chad, looking to Barrett and, upon seeing Barrett nod, turning to finally face Christiana. “Trust me. Hold on if you can. I’ll be gentle.”

He scooped Christiana up and led Angelina to Christiana’s office. The office was in the back of the kitchen, and it had a large window overlooking the kitchen. Once Chad had gently put Christiana down into her office chair, he left, and Angelina locked the door.

“What do we do now?” asked Christiana.

“All we can do,” said Angelina. “Watch.”

Christiana looked out the window. The wolves were staring into the window, licking their lips as they looked over Angelina.

Chad and Barrett hunkered down and shifted into their bear forms.

Christiana had never seen a bear shift this way before. Sure, living in Colorado, she’d seen shifters change their skins before, but she’d never seen a shifter fight, nor had she seen a shifter change to guard someone before. Every time she’d seen a shifter shift, she’d tried not to stare, half because it was considered rude to watch a shifter shift if you weren’t a shifter, but half because most shifters stripped down before shifting to save their clothes from getting ripped up during a change. Chad and Barrett hadn’t had time to disrobe so, as their bodies got larger, furrier, stronger, their clothing ripped into shreds like a man transforming into a werewolf in a cheesy B-movie horror flick from the 1950s. Chad and Barrett’s clothes became scraps on the floor as they let their wild sides out, their bears bursting out of them as quickly as they could force their shifts out.

Their bodies changed, getting even bigger, as they were both covered in layers of thick fur. Chad’s bear was a bit lighter than Barrett’s, a sandy color with deep brown roots. Barrett’s shift had a dark brown coat that was nearly black, paired with tips of a brilliant auburn. Both had more massive humps than the standard bear. These were no ordinary bears, but there would be time for Christiana to ask about that later. Right now, she just had to focus on keeping herself and Angelina safe, as apparently, Chad and Barrett had the means to take care of themselves.

Christiana scanned over the bears. Chad’s bear was more muscular while Barrett’s was speedier. Barrett’s shift had even finished up faster than Chad’s. Christiana was surprised: she thought that Chad would be the fast one, Barrett the strong, silent type who walked quietly and carried a big stick, but she had been mistaken. Barrett was first into the fray while Chad was still assessing the situation and figuring out what move to take, to ensure a victory for Bear Buns and Christiana’s safety. The bear’s paws were furry, but even through the thick layer of hair, she could see that each of the bears had sharp claws, claws that could quickly take down anything from another bear challenging their dominance to a Himalayan cedar tree. The three wolves in front of Chad and Barrett looked puny in comparison to Christiana’s two large…friends.

Barrett had launched into the circle that he’d formed with Chad and, in doing so, broke his half of the loop, leaving Chad on his own to try and herd the wolves back into the dog pile while Barrett tussled with them in the center. The rules of a shifter fight were simple. No permanent injuries or lethal force was allowed, although legal accommodations were made for accidents, and under few circumstances were shifters allowed to use their shifts against non-shifters, which is part of what had made Chad and Barrett so angry at the wolves. The restrictions were social, not legal, but the shifter community took pride on policing itself, from the grizzly clans of Seattle to the polar families of Norway, and the last thing they needed was a troublemaker harassing humans and making matters worse for other shifters.

The bears exchanged a glance. They didn’t have telepathy like some shifters were rumored to have, but they knew each other’s thoughts as well as they knew their own. It was the kind of bond that came from spending years together, side by side, through thick and thin, through calm times and through heated times. This was far from their first fight, and it definitely wouldn’t be their last. They’d had harder fights, against tougher opponents, but even though they were sure they could beat these wolves back out to the streets where these mangy mongrels belonged…they still felt as if the stakes of this battle were higher.

Chad looked to Barrett, then to the three wolves, who were sizing them up as well, then back to Barrett.

Barrett saw a glint in Chad’s eye. It was the same glint he’d spied when Chad had first watched Christiana walk away from the strip club on the day of her interview. Even though like then, they’d known that Christiana would come back, and even though now, they knew they’d successfully defend Christiana and her assistant from these wolves, Chad was nervous.

Barrett didn’t even give the wolves a look. He just nodded to Chad and flexed his form, accentuating his enormous size. They were bears. They were the most powerful predator on the face of the earth. Between them and the Tibetan blues, the myth of the frikkin’ yeti had been born. These bears? They had nothing to worry about.

At least, that’s what Barrett was trying to convince Chad, but although Barrett thought he couldn’t be read as easily as Chad, he’d forgotten that Chad could tell when Barrett was nervous as well. Chad put on a brave face, nodded, and looked back at the wolves, who had gone back to staring at the girls, licking their lips lecherously.

They had the size advantage, but that didn’t change the fact they were outnumbered by the three wolves.

The wolves turned their attention to the bears. In human form and in animal form, the werewolves were indeed smaller than the werebears. However, they had their pack sense to aid them in any fight. A pack of three was small by wolf standards, but even though Chad and Barrett were dance partners, they weren’t a pack. Their biology didn’t allow it. Heck, their shifts were barely okay with the fact that Chad and Barrett were willing to share a mate! The wolves were different. Their inner wolves knew what they had to do. They had to work together to get a fated mate, and they were more in sync on a primal, animalistic level than the bears were.

That was the one thing the bears and the wolves had in common. They knew they had to pursue and protect their fated mate at all costs, and when one messed with a shifter’s fated mate, there’d be a storm of fur and claws to handle. That was for sure. When giant bears and a pack of wolves were tossed together in the mix, it was anyone’s game.

The wolves pounced first. While Chad and Barrett turned to check on the girls, one of the wolves lunged at Chad. Barrett managed to swat the wolf away before it could get a hold on Chad’s neck, but the other two wolves took that as an invitation to join in the fray.

The wolf that had been swatted away had barely been pushed back a foot. The wolf was ready to get back in the game. It jumped back toward the bears, this time, aiming for Barrett, but Chad tripped the wolf up. As the wolf started to fall, Chad pushed it up and back, flipping the wolf onto it’s back, so the wolf was belly-up.

Forced into such a submissive position, the wolf felt embarrassed, dishonored even. In nearly all animal species, that position was the position of submission, of giving in to a being that one acknowledged was more powerful, was more of an alpha.

The wolf got back on his legs, leaned back and then leaned forward to give a mighty howl. The other two wolves gave short cries and then barked before gnashing their sharp, white teeth at the two burly bears in front of them.

For a second, Christiana felt like Little Red Riding Hood, but she wasn’t worried she’d get eaten up. She was concerned about the bears. The rational side of her knew that the bears could hold their own in a fight, but another part of her, a part of her that she couldn’t quite identify, was worried they’d get hurt by the wolves. After all, they were outnumbered, and the wolves were quick. From the sound of the howls, they were angry, too.

Christiana looked over Chad and Barrett. The two sweet, funny, helpful men had turned into ferocious beasts, but to her, they weren’t like the wolves. No. They didn’t strike fear into her heart. She felt something else. She’d imagined that their shifts would be like giant teddy bears, but the only thing these beasts shared with stuffed animals was a thick layer of fur and a feeling of protection that they bestowed upon whomever they deigned worthy of protecting. Chad and Barrett were no toys. They were more than just men, more than just bears: they were dominant, alpha males, that much was obvious.

Somehow, even though the two men had turned into apex predators, into furry killing machines capable of driving any opponent away, with Chad and Barrett acting like the legendary rock and hard place, they didn’t make her feel afraid. Instead, they made her feel safe, protected, as if, as messed up as the situation was, they were more than just her mere protectors. She felt as if they were that something more she didn’t want to admit she fantasized they might just be.

Before Chad and Barrett could strike, another ball of fur entered the kitchen.