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of this fată as well…
    He glanced around at the circle of angry red eyes, all waiting on her. She was their leader. Even the males looked to her.
    Shandor felt his skin ripple with anticipation of the fight and the reward.
    Wait, what was wrong with him? This wasn’t him. He didn’t hurt women.
    But s he wasn’t a woman. And he was no longer a man.
    And if he didn’t want to live alone any longer, he was going to have to take her down. Show his dominance in front of the entire pack .
    He felt the need for power rear up inside him, felt the seductive adrenaline rush that followed it, and he looked her dead in her glowing red eyes. “I heard you,” he said, jumping to his feet.
    Using his inhuman strength and incredible speed, Shandor lunged forward and grabbed her upper arms. Clutching her to him, he spun around in the opposite direction and took off running. He ran as fast as he could until he’d felt he’d put enough distance between them and the rest of her pack. Shoving her face-first against the nearest tree, he kicked her legs apart and…
    Shandor couldn’t stop his magic, couldn’t contain it, and he knew his eyes had turned black. His entire body could feel the darkness rearing up inside him. It spread like wildfire through his blood before bursting from his skin and creating a protective circle of black-streaked flames around them.
    “You don’t get to make that decision anymore, fată,” he growled. “I do.”
    Sinking his fangs into her shoulder, he pushed himself inside her.
    By the time her pack caught up to them, he’d finished and was working through their second round. She’d long since submitted and was now purring like a kitten, her ass in the air, begging him for more.
    The feelings he’d derived from this triumph were nearly indescribable. Euphoria raced through him, better than alcohol or any drug. He felt like a king. No, fuck that, he felt like a god.
    Grabbing hold of the female’s hair, Shandor yanked her head back. “What’s your name?” he demanded.
    “Tahyra,” she replied, her voice a throaty growl.
    “You’re mine, Tahyra,” he told her, then looked to the rest of them, staring at him with wide, astonished eyes.
    “She’s mine,” he repeated. “You’re all mine.”
    Not one of them disagreed. Satisfied, he went back to his whimpering, moaning reward.
     

Chapter Seven
    Nico Čonka rolled over and met with the warm, soft body of his wife. He slid his hand up her T-shirt to cup her breast as he pressed his erection into her backside.
    “Wake up, Becki,” he murmured. “I want inside you before Michaela starts screaming.”
    Swatting at him, she mumbled something incoherent and fell back asleep.
    Laughing, he covered her belly with his hand, felt her skin and muscles still loose from giving birth, and then moved lower, down between her thighs.
    “Nico,” she muttered, trying to squirm away from him. “Not now.”
    Goddamn it. Not again.
    “Yeah, now,” he growled, rolling her to her back and maneuvering on top of her.
    He tried to pull her T-shirt up, but she grabbed the material and shoved it back in place.
    “Don’t,” she whispered. “I’m gross.”
    His eyebrows shot up. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
    “My body,” she hissed. “I’m fat!”
    Angry, he yanked her T-shirt out of her grip and up over her head. As tossed it across the RV, she tried to cover herself, but he grabbed her arms and pinned them above her head. Becki was a damn beautiful woman, encased in silky bronzed skin with matching chocolate-colored eyes. Long, dark curls framed a sweetheart face composed of delicate, utterly feminine features. Nearly every man in camp appreciated a good, long look at her. She was also the most ridiculous woman he’d ever met.
    “You are such an asshole,” she whispered, her eyelashes wet with tears.
    “No,” he chastised, “you’re an idiot.”
    Bowing his head, Nico took a large, heavy breast between his lips and suckled,