A high-pitched whine accompanied the final, vicious crack of bone. The rich pelt shed and left a woman with dark-brown skin panting on the cushion of leaves. Her breasts were full and her hips lush, her body sheened with sweat. Short twists of burgundy hair covered her scalp, and even stained with the effort of her change, she was a beauty.

A beauty whose throat I had ripped out in self-defense moments earlier, whose flesh knitted together as I watched. Eyes the color of topaz soaked in Isaac like he was a tempting cut of prime beef that would tear softly under her teeth. It tempted me to test her regenerative capabilities by removing her windpipe for a second time. My cousin was not on the menu. Neither was I for that matter.

“Who are you lovely dishes?” she rasped, sitting upright and curving her legs under her. The pose was comfortable, not modest. Wargs weren’t prudes in either form. “Wander where you don’t belong out here, and you might get gobbled up.”

A glance down confirmed I had, stupidly, allowed her to lure me onto Chandler land without a warg escort. “I’m Camille Ellis. Cord Graeson invited us. We’re his guests.”

Magic shivered over my skin, contracting, and I lost my grip on the borrowed energy. Fur fell out in clumps down my forearm, my fingers shrank and nails reformed into perfect ovals. I eased forward, angling so Isaac stood a step behind me. “Who are you?”

“Handsome here can call me Aisha.” She licked her lips in Isaac’s direction before snapping her gaze to me. “You, beta, may address me as alpha. I’m Bessemer’s mate. These are our lands where you trespass.”

Oh. She was one of those women. Each time I transferred to a new marshal’s office, I got dropped into the frothing miasma of office politics. Thanks to those experiences, I recognized a power play when I saw one. If I bowed to her now, she would never let me off my knees.

“Aisha.” I cleaned her blood out from under my nails. “Can you tell Graeson his girlfriend is here?”

An unladylike snort ripped through her. “Wargs don’t have girlfriends, fae. We mate, and it’s for life.”

My every instinct is telling me you belong to me.

Graeson had said that to me right before giving me an impromptu haircut.

Too bad his every instinct hadn’t informed him when my flight was arriving.

“A wise woman once cautioned me never to get into a pissing match with a warg.” That wasn’t strictly true. I’d read it in the stall of a ladies’ restroom years ago. “Tell him or not.” I spread my hands as I backed onto land owned by the state of Georgia. “I’ve got nothing but time.”

A lie if ever I’d told one.

Chapter 2