Biffy continued to snap and slather in her direction, growling in uncontrollable rage, the cursed monster of folklore made flesh and fur before her.

Alexia tsked at him. “Really, Biffy, must you?” Then she used her best Lady Maccon voice. “Behave! What kind of conduct is this for a gentleman!”

Alexia was Alpha, too, and the commanding tone sunk in. Biffy mellowed his snapping frenzy. Some measure of sense entered his yellow eyes. Lord Maccon seized the opportunity and charged, clamping down hard on the other wolf’s neck, bearing him down to the floor by sheer superiority of mass.

Lady Maccon approached and looked down at the tableau. “It’s no good, Conall. I can’t bend down to touch him without falling over.”

Her husband let out a snort of amusement. Then, with a casual flick of his head, he hurled the young wolf upward. A surprised Biffy landed on his back on the chaise lounge, scrambling to right himself and attack once more.

Lady Maccon grabbed his tail. He jerked in surprise, enough to overbalance her so that she fell with an oof onto the chaise next to him. In that same instant, the power of her preternatural touch forced him back into human form. Even as Biffy’s tail retreated, Alexia reached for a paw with her other hand.

In very short order, a naked Biffy lay sprawled in a most undignified way upon the chaise lounge with his foot firmly grasped by his mistress. Since contact with Alexia made him mortal, with all the physical responses such a state entailed, it was not unsurprising to find him blushing crimson in humiliation.

Alexia, while sympathetic to his plight, maintained her grasp and noted, with scientific detachment, that his blush went all the way down. Remarkable.

Her husband’s growl drew her attention back to him. He, too, was back in his human form and naked.

“What?”

“Stop looking at him. He’s bare.”

“So are you, husband.”

“Yes, well, you can look at me all you like.”

“Yes, well. Oh.” Lady Maccon clutched suddenly at her stomach with her free hand.

Conall’s mild jealousy translated instantly to overbearing solicitude. “Alexia! Are you ailing? Oh, you shouldna hae come in here! It’s too dangerous. You fell.”

Biffy sat up, also concerned. He tried to extract his ankle, but Lady Maccon refused to let go. “My lady, what is wrong?”

“Oh, stop it! Both of you. The infant is simply kicking up a fuss over such sudden activity. No, Biffy dear, we must stay in contact, however indecorous you find it.” Biffy offered her his hand instead of his foot. Alexia accepted the exchange of prisoners.

“Shall I ring for Floote?” suggested Biffy, blushing slightly less now that he had something to be worried about that wasn’t his own shame.

Alexia hid a smile. “You should find that rather difficult, as you seem to have chewed up the bell rope.”

Biffy looked around, blushing again. He covered his face with one hand, peeking through open fingers as though he couldn’t stand to look, yet was unable to drag his eyes away. “Oh my ruffled bacon! What have I done? Your poor parlor. My lord, my lady, please forgive me. I was not myself. I was in thrall to the curse.”