Ariel led the hunting party through the forest. She spotted their prey, a large buck weaving through the trees just ahead, the noise of its flight lost to the wind produced by her own dash, not to mention the racket of rustling foliage and breaking branches made by lions crashing through the underbrush around her.

It was midday, and thick swords of sunlight pierced the canopy. True lions hunted best at night, using the darkness for stealth, but shifters had the advantage of human intellect, allowing them to hunt just as well in the day. Instead of stealth, they used team work.

As beaters, it was the job of Ariel’s team to scare the deer into the claws of the lions waiting in ambush ahead. She almost felt sorry for the doomed animal. Almost: the sheer smell of it on her nostrils drove her crazy. She could almost taste the venison steaks on her tongue already.

Still, it was a beautiful creature, with graceful, powerful limbs, and antlers big enough to cage a young bear. Those antlers would be its downfall, of course. They weren’t suited for flight through such thick undergrowth; the branching horns constantly snagged upon different boughs, jerking the buck’s head left or right as it ran. Her team might very well run down the deer before it even reached the waiting ambushers. That meant it might be standing its ground to fight, soon.

She readied herself.

Ariel had once feared her lion half, but she had grown to embrace it. When she had first been turned, she hated what she was, thought of herself as a monster. But now she loved it, exhilarated in it. Like Jett had told her, the lioness wasn’t a separate part of her. It was her. Her time spent with the pride had taught her that. Hating her lioness was only hating herself.

A putrid scent abruptly washed over her, momentarily bringing her out of the hunt. Her instincts told her to ignore it and continue the hunt, while the human part of her wanted to slow down and investigate.

She chose to continue, making a mental note to return here when the hunt was over. She would be able to find the area easily in beast form, thanks to the internal compass all lions had.

Yes, she chose. And that was what differentiated her from an animal. She was in control, not instincts. She could decide. That was something else the pride had taught her.

In another five minutes the hunt was done. Her team wasn’t able to run down the buck after all, and instead the deer raced straight into the claws of the waiting lions, who delivered a clean kill. No shifters were injured in the attack.

Most members of the combined hunting party changed back into humans at that point, as it was difficult to remain in lion form near a fresh kill—the instinct to feed was nearly overwhelming. If the lions wanted to save anything for the rest of the pride, let alone properly cook the meat, changing back was all they could do. Only the oldest among the pride could resist the temptation, and those members remained in lion form.

“Nice job, Blue Hurricane,” Ariel told the nude men, women and lions around her. She used to be so self-conscious about being naked in front of them. Not anymore. She supposed this was what it was like to live in a nudist colony, except they weren’t exactly nudists. Not full time, anyway. “Let’s get this meat back to camp. I don’t know about you, but I’ve really worked up an appetite after all this hunting!”

The ambushing group produced a litter they’d brought with them and hoisted the dead buck onto it. Jayden and Razor each lifted one of the litter’s front handles over their powerful shoulders and began to drag the dead deer through the forest. The other members provided escort, ready to swap out with Jayden and Razor when the pair tired.

Ariel only walked with them a short distance before her gaze drifted toward the trees behind her. “There’s something I need to investigate back there.”

“The smell of rot we passed?” Duncan asked. He was one of the biggest men in the pride. Very single. Very hot. Not to mention really well-built.

Given how many abs she counted, his body fat had to be in the sub three percent range. Ariel found it hard not to admire his naked figure. She reminded herself that there was a certain other man whose body was even more aesthetically pleasing, not to mention well-endowed… a man who was all hers.

“The smell, yes,” Ariel said, averting her gaze.

“We’re close to where we fought the undead,” Razor said. “Has to be their bodies you’re smelling.” Razor was big, too, but also mean-looking. He was a man with attitude. She could easily understand why he was a bachelor. Duncan, not so much.

“I know,” Ariel said. “But I want to check it out.”

“We should have burned them,” Razor said.

“Pyro!” Jayden quipped from where he held the litter beside Razor.

Ariel arched an eyebrow. “Razor, are you questioning Jett’s judgement?”

Razor bowed his head in submission. “No.”

“Because if you are, you should take it up with him,” Ariel continued.

Razor’s head fell lower. He definitely didn’t want to confront the dragon who was their Alpha. “Uh, I’ll pass on that.”

“Chickenshit,” Jayden said. Unlike most of the lions, Jayden kept his face clean-shaven. All the better to show off his chiseled features.

“Shut it, goat breath,” Razor said. “I don’t need to be called chickenshit by a lion who’s a pussy.”

“Um, and why am I a pussy?” Jayden said.

“All lions are pussies,” Julia said. She was a relatively petite member of the pride, though her inner lioness was just as ferocious as Ariel’s. “We’re big pussy cats.”

“Speak for yourself,” Razor said. “As for Jayden, girly face aside, he’s a pussy because when that big buck was coming at us back there, he hesitated, holding back. So I had to jump it first.”

“I wasn’t hesitating,” Jayden said. “I was saying a silent prayer for the soul of the animal I was about to kill.”

“Yeah whatever,” Razor said. “Like I said, you ain’t a lion, you’re a pussy.”

“I don’t seem to recall Jayden hesitating when we were fighting the undead…” Duncan said.

Ariel remembered the fight and its aftermath quite well. All of the lions had fought, and fought well. After destroying the vampire witch and her undead minions, Jett decided to leave the bodies as a warning to those who would attack the pride. Like Razor, Ariel wasn’t entirely convinced that leaving the rotting corpses behind was the best idea. That could just as easily be interpreted as a challenge, rather than a warning, and she had said as much to Jett in private. But Jett had merely smiled.

“I’m not collared anymore,” Jett had said. “Let our enemies interpret the warning as they see fit. Because if they do attack, they’ll learn firsthand what it means to face an unfettered dragon.”

“Duncan, Connor, I want you with me,” Ariel said. “We’ll meet the rest of you back in camp.”

“We’ll do our best to leave some steaks for you,” Jayden said. “No promises!”

“I’ll make sure these bozos leave steaks…” Julia said.

“Thanks J,” Ariel said.

Julia grinned mischievously. “After all, we wouldn’t want you to have to fly to the city with that dragon of yours just to get a meal.”

“Yeah we would,” Razor said.

Ariel smiled. Jett would do no such thing of course—he wouldn’t dare risk having any humans spot him in dragon form.

She glanced at Duncan and Connor. “Let’s go.”

Ariel turned around and leaped, extending her arms in front of her. Before she hit the ground she had transformed. Duncan and Connor were at her side, two big-maned lions covered in tawny fur.

The trio made good time retracing their steps back through the forest. It only took a few minutes before the horrible fetor assailed her nostrils again. From the way Duncan and Connor were crinkling their muzzles, she could tell they weren’t too thrilled by the smell, either.

Ariel slowed down, deciding to remain in lion form. The putrid scent reached its peak as the three of them emerged into a clearing.

This was indeed the spot where the pride had battled the undead. Between collapsed tents, the corpses of Orion hunters in full battle gear littered the area. Most of the bodies rested inside large depressions where Jett had crushed the ground in dragon form. Any intact automatic rifles had long since been looted by the pride, so that the only remaining weapons were flattened and useless. Broken ballistic shields lay beside the equally broken bodies, the flesh in various stages of decomposition. Scavenger birds picked at exposed skin and muscle.

She glanced at Duncan and Connor in turn, and with nods of her head indicated the two were to secure the perimeter in separate directions. Meanwhile she proceeded forward, fastidiously placing her paws between the dead as she walked through the gruesome scene. Flies buzzed over the bodies; disturbed ravens and magpies dispersed, strips of flesh hanging from their beaks.

The sight of it all sickened Ariel, and if she wasn’t in lion form, she might have dry heaved.

When she reached the other side of the clearing she rendezvoused with Duncan and Connor.

She changed into human form, as did the two men.

“I think we’ve seen all we need to see,” Ariel said. “Let’s go.”

“No wait,” Duncan said. “Look. The crows.”

Ariel followed his gaze and realized he was looking at a lifeless clump of black feathers lying next to one of the bodies. Similar black masses littered the ground between the human corpses. She hadn’t noticed them on her first run through the clearing: she had been too distracted by the bodies.

Connor approached one of the dead crows and reached for it.

“Don’t touch it,” Duncan said in disgust.

Connor paused, but then ignored his friend and picked up the feathery mass. He moved his fingers underneath the black plumes as if searching for something. Then he returned to Ariel and slid aside the feathers of the neck region.

“See these?” Connor said. “Puncture wounds. These ravens have been drained of blood.” He tossed the dead bird aside.

Alarm filled Ariel. “Where’s the body of the witch?”

The three of them surveyed the grass.

“Don’t see it,” Duncan said.

Ariel made her way along the edge of the clearing, heading to the area where she had been held prisoner. She saw the stakes and opened manacles on the ground, and her eyes drifted toward the spot where the vampire witch had fallen.

“She’s not here,” Ariel said.

“Is it possible the sun destroyed her body?” Connor asked.

Ariel glanced at the canopy of leaves overhead. “No. The branches are too thick here. Where the witch fell, she would have been shaded all day.”

“Only old vampires can survive in the shade during the day,” Duncan said.

“Given what she did to us, I think we can safely say she’s old,” Connor told him.

“But we all saw her head explode,” Duncan said. “No vampire could survive that.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Connor said. “Again, depends on how old the vampire is. A thousand-year-old vampire could definitely regrow her head. It would take a few weeks, and it would drain her to the core, but she could do it.”

“You think she was that ancient?” Duncan said. “I thought only the vampires on the Council of Seven were that old.”

That was the council Jett had once served on as king of North America, composed of the secret kings and queens who ruled the shifters hidden among humanity. Three were dragon, three were vampire, and one was witch.

“She must have been,” Ariel said. “But why feast on the crows, when she had all these human bodies to satisfy her?”

“Vampires need fresh blood,” Connor said. “The dead would have done nothing for her. Bird blood wouldn’t have been much better, but at least living crows could give her some sustenance. With enough of them, she could find the strength to walk out of here on her own two feet.”

“It’s possible a wild animal moved her body…” Duncan said.

“Just to be sure, let’s make a more thorough search of the clearing,” Ariel said.

They did so, but still found no sign of the witch’s body.

“Jett’s not going to like this,” Ariel said.

“None of the pride will,” Connor agreed.