She knew, they both knew, their reappearance would cause an uproar, but neither had been quite prepared for an almost frenzied reaction. A loud, shril... whistle sliced through the air, silencing the shouting throng. Everyone turned toward the source of the piercing noise and saw Mifir standing straight and tall in front of the entrance to the Gathering Place with his mate, Keta, Leader of the Wolf Clan. The tall, slender woman with long, curly hair streaked with gray raised her hands. Holding. Not just one man but a group if she was lucky. Standing rather conspicuously by the crumby bar, it wasn’t long before a tall, heavy-set man approached her, moving to her like a predator, sniffing her as he did so. Della flinched, not sure if out of fear or excitement, as his beer saturated breath slapped her in the face. Despite her disgust she could not disguise the familiar pulse emanating from between her thighs. He wasted no time asking what it was she was looking for in such a club. She. More

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