Sissy sat and scratched her ear with her back leg. She looked like all the Smith wolves when she shifted. Dark brown, almost black fur with very small patches of white and gold built in. Unlike his eyes or even Bobby Ray’s, Sissy’s eyes went from light brown to yellow only when wolf.

And thankfully, she’d finished molting. Although it had been entertaining when he’d walk into her hotel room and find her rubbing herself up against a potted plant or furniture, trying to get the tufts of fur off.

Mitch finished brushing, spit, and Sissy slammed into his side with her paws. Impatient female. Then she started barking at him—and wouldn’t stop.

Annoyed—and amused—Mitch shifted and roared at her. Sissy stumbled back, wagged her tail, and took off running.

Mitch was right behind her.

It took a while, and to be quite blunt, Mitch wasn’t the best hunter she’d ever worked with—in fact, his older sister, Marissa, was ten times better—but they’d finally tracked the wild boar down and had him cornered. The boar was a mean ol’ buck, and big. When he realized he’d been cornered, he lowered his head and charged.

Shit.

Sissy dashed to the side as the boar came at her, and when he charged past, she grabbed hold of his leg, dragging him back.

Mitch grabbed the boar on his side, trying to get him into position so he could snap his spine.

But the boar kicked out, his hoof hitting Sissy in the jaw. Not wanting a broken jaw anytime soon, she let go, and the boar tore away from Mitch. He took off down the small hill and toward the lake.

The pair went after him, and Mitch had caught hold of the boar again by the time Sissy got to them.

Mitch dragged the boar back so Sissy could get hold of it. But before she could get a grip, water from the lake suddenly exploded on and around her, and she stumbled back.

Ralph. She’d completely forgotten about Ralph!

How the hell could she forget about Ralph? Who forgets about a ten-foot crocodile living in her parents’ lake? Maybe because he’d been part of this lake for so long.

It had been her extremely stupid cousin who’d originally gotten it as a cute little croc, but when it finally outgrew the shoe box under the bed, the idiot had dumped the poor thing in this lake.

When Ralph hit a healthy five feet, the family had discussed getting rid of Ralph, but he was such a little trooper none of them had the heart, and Daddy figured it would keep anyone who annoyed him away from his lake. It was a real sweet sentiment, too—until Ralph hit ten feet. Then this lake and a good portion of the surrounding property became Ralphie’s territory.

Of course, this meant they all stayed away from Ralph. If Ralph got their prey, they found other prey.

That’s what logical, sane predators did.

Apparently Mitchell Shaw did not fall into that category.

WhenSissy had gotten the water out of her eyes, she watched as Mitch played tug with a goddamn crocodile. She barked at him, but he seemed determined not to give up the damn boar.

Sissy barked more and slammed her paws against Mitch’s side. But he only dug his enormous paws into the soft earth surrounding the lake and settled into a tug that Ralph seemed more than happy to engage in.

Was the man insane? Had being undercover pushed him over the edge? And why was she having another conversation with herself?

“Sissy Mae.”

Sissy looked over and saw Dee-Ann standing about ten feet away, clothes clutched in her hand.

“You need to get…” Dee’s gaze traveled over to Mitch and Ralph. “Holy shit.”

Walking over to her cousin, Sissy barked the whole way. When she shifted and started putting the clothes on her cousin had with her, her barking moved to ranting.

“Can you believe him? I think the boy has lost his goddamn mind. Who the fuck plays tug with a crocodile? No one sane. That’s who!” She tugged on the denim shorts before pulling on the T-shirt. “I risk everything to save his dumb ass, and now I’ll have to go back to his big brother and tell him the hitter didn’t get him—it was a crocodile. How am I supposed to explain that? And why the hell are you here anyway?”

Dee didn’t answer, her gaze locked on Mitch and Ralph.

“Dee-Ann!”

“Don’t yell.” Her cousin turned to her. “I was sent here to get you.” She sighed. “They want to see you in town.”

Sissy let out an angry breath. Now? Her brother wanted her now? Then she stopped a moment to think about it. Bastard. It was perfect. Kick her out while Mitch was unable to walk, and the town might turn on him for being a major prick. Wait until the cat could tussle with crocodiles, and the town would have a parade leading them out.

Bastard!

“And you’ve got some visitors at the house.”

Sissy pulled her annoyed gaze away from Mitch and back to her cousin. “I do?”

Mitch had a good grip on the boar—who’d died quite a while ago from blood loss and internal damage, no doubt—but that damn crocodile wouldn’t give it up.

And were crocodiles indigenous to these parts? He’d watched documentaries on crocs, and he’d never heard about a huge population in the wilds of Tennessee.

But investigating that further would have to wait because the damn thing wouldn’t let go!

His jaw getting tired, Mitch readjusted, but the croc took advantage and scurried back. Mitch tried to grab hold, but the damn croc disappeared into the lake. Mitch roared…and roared again.

Now he was hungry, tired, and covered in boar’s blood. He hated hunting his own food!