She watched him with cold gold eyes, and he knew she was trying to figure out whether it was worth killing him now or seeing if she could get him to shift. If he stayed beast, she wouldn’t have any real proof of the kill. But Mitch had no intention of helping her—and she knew it.

She shrugged. “I just need to make sure you don’t show up to testify.”

She raised the gun and aimed at him. He ground his paws into the dirt, preparing to leap at her. But that’s when he realized he couldn’t move. Not from fear, either. He simply couldn’t move. At all.

And as panic was about to set in, blood splattered across his face, almost blinding him.

The lioness’s arms flung out, and the weapon dropped from her hand. They stared at each other for a long moment before both their gazes looked down at her stomach—and the prongs from a pitchfork that had been shoved through it.

She opened her mouth to say something, but Mitch would never know what as the pitchfork was forced further in and viciously twisted. The female’s head fell forward and blood began to pour from her. She hung on that pitchfork until she was forced off like roadkill.

Mitch swallowed, peering up at those dog-colored eyes that now watched him. She was old. Older than seemed right. And whatever she’d been doing up here had…changed her. Parts of her were wolf, including fur, claws, bone structure, while other parts were human. Placing her weight on the pitchfork, she limped toward Mitch. Limped because only one leg had a foot as opposed to a paw.

He was unable to take his eyes off her, and she was less than a foot or two away when she raised that pitchfork again. He still couldn’t move. And he tried. Christ, did he try.

So Mitch waited to die. Like he’d been waiting to die for nearly three years. But he wasn’t resigned to dying. Not now. Not when he’d had some of his best times with one hot little She-wolf. Sissy meant everything to him, and it struck him that part of him still hoped this would all work out. That somehow they could be together forever. Two of the biggest troublemakers making a partnership that would have their relatives—and everyone else with a brain—panicking.

But he wouldn’t leave these woods alive—and that realization was pissing him off.

As the farming tool began its arch down, the old female suddenly stopped.

“My, my,” she said with a voice that was as fully human as the rest of her. “That’s a lot of rage comin’ off you, cat.”

Her nose twitched, and she stepped a bit closer, took a sniff.

“You reek of Sissy Mae. You’re her man?” When Mitch only stared at her, she demanded, “Answer me, boy.”

Mitch nodded.

“And ain’t you a big buck?” The old woman snorted. It was sort of a laugh. “Just like her momma…dirty littlewhore.”

He moved, startling them both. But her paw flipped up, and his legs were locked again. He felt nailed to the spot.

“There was a time, boy, when your kind was good for one thing—something to hang on a Saturday night.” She laughed at her own sick joke before hefting up her pitchfork again. “But I have other uses for you these days.”

She lifted the fork. “Yeah, pieces of you will do me just right.”

The fork arched down, and Mitch watched it. He wouldn’t look away, wouldn’t close his eyes. He’d face his death head on.

And that’s when Sissy ran up and over him, her smaller wolf body jumping between him and her crazy relative.

She snarled and snapped, and the woman stumbled back.

“He’s mine,” the old bitch hissed. “He’s on my territory, Sissy Mae. He’s. Mine!”

Sissy bared fangs, her body tensing for an attack. But they weren’t alone. Other wolves, four of them, all female, circled behind the old woman.

And the old woman smiled.

“It’s just you, Sissy. He can’t break the seal. Not like you can. And them other She-wolves…they’ll never come up here. You’re all alone. So head on back down the hill, or I’ll make you watch what I do to him.”

Sissy took a step back. And another. She backed up until she was next to him. That’s when she brushed her head against his side, pushed her body into his, moving up until their heads were next to each other. She rubbed her snout against his mane.

Invisible chains were unleashed, and suddenly, Mitch could move, his body his own again.

The witch looked stunned. Hell, she looked terrified.

“How…how did you…”

The other She-wolves moved back, away.

Mitch took a step forward. Another. Another. Then he roared. The She-wolves ran, and the old woman glared, but the power she held was broken. Broken by Sissy. And she’d never forgive Sissy for it.

“Take him then. Hope he keeps you warm when you lose your family, your Pack for betraying your own kind.”

She made her slow way back to the lioness’s body. “You go on back down that hill. But don’t you come back up here, Sissy Mae. You ain’t never welcome again. Not here.”

Grabbing the ankle of the lioness, she said, “And take your cat with you.” She glowered at them over her shoulder. “And I’ll be takin’ mine. I have use for this one’s bones.”

Saying nothing else, she walked back to her hovel of a home, dragging the lioness behind her.

Mitch looked at Sissy. He trusted her to know whether they should get the female’s body back or not. The cop in him wanted to try. The lion could honestly care less.