Rygan woke up alone, although he’d fallen asleep on the grass next to the female who had tired him out.

That sounded like the best kind of naughty in the world, but, as he was talking about an actual cat - of the non-shifting variety - he’d just run, trying to catch her, until he couldn’t move another muscle. Damn kitty was quick.

“Waking up just in time for a Cuban,” Daunte said, holding a box of cigars up. “Want one?”

Rygan stretched languorously before shifting.

He was pretty sure the reason he got along with his Beta so well was because they were both freaks of a sort - or, in any case, Daunte had been raised by one. He understood.

Rygan might not be completely mad, like The Butcher, but he had the same effect on people - they feared him, because he was bigger than any feline shifter out there. Those deadly white fangs coming out from under his upper lip probably didn’t help.

His pride members were used to it, but, at first, they’d all shuddered. In fact, he’d never met anyone who didn’t. Except Daunte. And that pretty Savannah-ish cat.

He found himself wondering, “What is he like? Your older brother.” The one person who was seen as more freakish than him by their community. “You never speak of him.”

Daunte was pretty open to sharing information about his father, the way he’d raised him; he’d even put their Enforcers through some of the training The Butcher had taught him, but Rygan couldn’t recall one time when he’d mentioned his notorious sibling.

Rygan understood. He wasn’t particularly fond of speaking about his own brother, Colter, his father’s heir, so he’d never asked.

Colter was perfect - strong, smart, reliable. Whatever Rygan accomplished, Colter had already done it, and that completely negated Rye’s value as far as his old pride had been concerned. He’d been expected to excel, because his brother had before him. The first time Rye had become his own person, rather than a King’s lesser son and a Prince’s brother, was when he’d created his pride. Even then, no one had supported his decision.

As he’d had more than two members following him, no one could legally deny his application to form the Wyvern Pride, but they had all been as unsupportive as possible; except Rygan’s grandmother.

The old crone was yet another Colter groupie, and she had never been very fond of Rye, yet she was the one who’d made it down to the hotel where they’d stayed while deciding on a direction, a large check in hand. He still didn’t understand it, but one day he was going to have to thank her for it. As that meant going to his father’s territory, or attending the Fest, it wasn’t very high on his list of priorities.

“Ah, yes. My sibling. Half of what you’ve heard is probably true, the other half couldn’t be more inaccurate.”

Rygan waggled an eyebrow, wondering when his Beta had taken to talking in riddles.

“We get along. There’s no doubt that we have each other’s back. But, yep. He’s a crazy motherfucker and he’ll tear through someone’s skull in a heartbeat - for the right reasons.”

Rygan smiled, smoking his cigar.

“That makes two of us.”

He’d cracked a skull or two in his time.

“If we get the house, we’ll need to purchase it under the umbrella of one of Ian’s companies, or a fake name. The wolves will find us eventually, but let’s not make it easy for them.”

He didn’t always understand the details of Hsu’s visions, as the images flew too quickly, but there was no doubt that a battle was still coming; when she’d seen what happened here, though, the result of the battle was everyone coming home, battered, exhausted, but alive. The kids, Ola, and Christine were also fine. Something had made a difference in Lakesides; perhaps there was a hide-out the wolves wouldn’t find.

Doubtful. Wolves were the best trackers; their damn noses were naturally better than any feline’s. Rye was missing something.

“You look worried. I mean, more than usual.”

Rygan sighed.

“I think Hsu’s vision might make us complacent. Now we know what’s after us, I don’t see any reason why the pride should be safer here than anywhere else, so we need to be vigilant.”

Daunte looked like he might want to say something but, after a second, he just nodded.

“I’ll patrol, if you want to go back to bed. You’ve barely slept for days. You need a few hours in a row, Alpha - not twenty minutes here and there.”

Rye nodded, thankful, and headed inside.

Daunte was right, he wouldn’t be any good to the pride completely sleep deprived, so he went to the small bedroom and dropped on the twin bed. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Rye was awoken by one of the most pleasing sensations in the world, a soft hand running along his cock, a wet tongue lapping at it, but something was wrong; he knew it before opening his eyes. Instead of feeling aroused, he was revolted, and also pretty confused.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he yelled, pushing Kim's hand away.

It didn’t make a bit of sense.

Okay, so maybe he’d been stupid, years ago, when she first joined his pride; he might have screwed the woman once or twice, but he'd made it absolutely clear that he was done a long time ago, and she had seemed okay with it. She’d just gone to the rest of the males in the pride to satisfy her needs - Daunte, Ian, and Coveney had all obliged; sometimes together, from what he’d heard. The woman had three holes and knew how to use them.

Rye hated the term, but, for lack of better words, she really was the pride whore. She had no other use.

What she’d done now wasn’t going to fly. He wouldn’t have minded if she'd just made a move on him; he would simply have rejected her, and that would've been that, but touching him while he slept, without his consent? That wasn't acceptable. They didn’t have that sort of relationship and she damn well knew it.

“I see you looking at me,” she purred, batting her long lashes. “I came to give us what we both want.”

Right. So the woman was delusional.

“What was that?”

He was just dumbfounded. If he ever looked at her, it was with contempt.

Ten years ago, he'd been young and restless, as well as overwhelmed with all the duties suddenly entrusted to him, so he’d welcomed the distraction. Pounding the hole between her long legs had given him an outlet for a few minutes here and there, but he’d since realized just how pitiful and self-centered Kim was, and she had completely lost her appeal. Plus, he didn’t judge the others for doing it, but he’d never fuck a woman who’d gone through all his pridemates.

“I don't know what you’ve been smoking, but I don't want you. Never have, actually; you were just there.”

Cruel, but she'd gone too far when she’d come to his room and put her fucking hands on him without permission. It was past time to make it clear what her place was. By that, he meant that she had none. She hadn't taken any duty in the pride, she didn't even cook or clean; she just hung with them, using their resources like a damn parasite. He put up with it because Jas, her twin, did far more than her share, but enough was enough. He wasn’t going to let Kim get away with this sort of shit.

A lot of prides, and packs, kept official sluts onboard, both male and female - shifters weren’t shy about sexuality, and it wasn’t always easy to meet their needs outside of their territories. Having one or two members ready to fuck when they needed to made things simpler.

The notion was old fashioned and, as far as Rye was concerned, disgusting. Animals also licked shit off their peer’s ass - it didn’t mean that shifters had to do it.

He mostly ignored it. Kim was more than willing; she’d reduced herself to being their whore voluntarily, and he knew his Enforcers had never crossed the line - they never even went to her, she was the one doing the seducing.

She looked confused, which in other circumstances might have been fucking hilarious; he hadn’t exactly minced his words. Anyone with any self-respect would already have been out of the room, but there she stood, with a pot of makeup on her face, too much perfume, and her huge tits hanging out of her negligée.

She was surprised, because shifters weren’t prudes - they loved sex, and her advances were probably welcomed whenever she bestowed them.

“It’s about her, isn’t it? The loner.”

A growl formed in his throat.

“No, Kim. It’s about you having screwed every single male in the pride. It’s about you not pulling your weight, and it’s about me not being into you.”

And perhaps it was a little about Rye wanting Ace so much his somnolent appendage, repulsed by Kim’s hands, twitched as he thought of her.

“I’m going to go take a shower. Get out of my room before I come back.”