Prologue

Stephanie Savik raced down a dark alleyway. Thunderously loud footsteps pounded after her as her pursuers closed the gap. Because they were outnumbered, she and her sister had split up and were now separated. If one of them got away, then at least the survivor could alert the authorities. But as terror infiltrated every cell, gripping her in its icy fingers, she would do anything to have Ashley at her side.

Turning another corner, she ran into a blind alley and realized she had no escape. With her heart thumping against her rib cage, she ran to the end, banging her hands on the sturdy brick wall. A low growl split the night air. She whirled around to see three men accompanied by two wolves. What the hell were wolves doing in the ancient city of Belgrade?

Before she could even consider the reason why, she woke from her dream, sitting bolt upright on the narrow bed, cold sweat trickling down her spine as she tried to calm her breathing. It was the dream again. Dream? Hardly. It was the beginning of this nightmare that seemed to have no end. Stephanie pulled at the manacle that kept her tethered to the bed. She shivered… Ashley, where was she?

Stephanie wondered again how she had ended up abducted and turned into some kind of grotesque monster. A tremor ran through her as she recalled being held down while a savage bite had been inflicted. After that trauma, she'd screamed, passed out and when she'd come to, more than a week had passed.

And everything had changed.

A Year Later…

The Luna de Lobo pack might know about her past, but they would only know the she-wolf she had become. As much as she would miss those she left behind in Tuscany, a chance to start over as the assistant vintner in California's wine country called to her.

"Ready?" asked Ashley.

Stephanie grinned. "Always."

The sisters walked outside, and Stephanie felt overwhelmed. Instead of this being a last run with her sister, the majority of the pack stood outside, all but Marco having shifted into their wolf form.

Marco smiled down at her. "We're going to miss you, little wolf. I'm not sure if your new pack enjoys running as a group, but I know Damian Steele's honor, courage and commitment to his pack. I do not believe it will be necessary, but you will forever be welcome here with us. You have always taken great joy in running with our people."

Tears threatened to fall, her throat seized up and all she could do was nod.

"As it will most likely be your last run with us, I ask that you lead the pack," said Marco as he stepped back and shifted.

Stephanie could feel her sister do the same. As she allowed her wolf to come forward and claim her, she lifted her muzzle to the morning sky and howled. The DeMedici Pack answered in kind as she sprinted off. She galloped into the beautiful gardens, around the lake and up into the hills strewn with vines. As she had suspected, there were refreshments in the grotto as well as enough robes for everyone to shift back to their human form and indulge.

Catherine had arranged for one of their horse-drawn wagons to take those who didn't want to complete the farewell as wolves back to the villa. Those that did, shifted once more and followed Stephanie as she wound her way through the vineyard and back to the beautiful home she had come to love.

Stephanie's flight from Italy was pleasant and she had a two-hour layover in D.C. before her non-stop flight to San Francisco. While grabbing a Starbucks—God how she'd missed them in Italy; they were few and far between—she replied to a text from Kayla Conroy, the head vintner's mate:

Looking forward to meeting everyone tomorrow afternoon. I'll let you know when I've landed in San Francisco. I want to spend what's left of today and most of tomorrow sightseeing. I should arrive at Luna de Lobo tomorrow evening between six and seven.

Smiling, Stephanie boarded her next flight. Not only was she looking forward to doing a bit of sightseeing, but her friend Seraphina Marino had given her the name of the club she'd frequented when she'd lived in San Francisco—Torch Light. Stephanie wanted a chance to unwind and relax from her trip and knew that a visit to a BDSM club was just the ticket.

Stephanie knew some packs could be pretty relaxed about dalliances among members, but Seraphina's mate, Luca, who had arranged for her to get the job with the Luna de Lobo vineyard, had been quick to point out that her new pack was much like her old. Casual sex amongst members was not encouraged. And like the DeMedici pack, male wolves would be held responsible for any harm caused to the she-wolves. While the patriarchal set-up of wolfen society could be annoying, there were times it had distinct advantages.

"You travelling to San Fran on business or pleasure?" asked the man sitting next to her.

Stephanie's gaze trailed over his open, sun-tanned features. His expression belayed those features. There was something hard and guarded behind his eyes.

"I'm relocating for a new job."

"What do you do?" he asked.

"I work in the wine industry."

"Wine-making is a big business in California. How do you train for something like that?"

"I sort of fell into it. I went for an extended visit with my sister and when I showed an interest, the head vintner took me under his wing and gave me a reference."

Stephanie didn't want to be rude, but she was also not inclined to give this stranger the story of her life.

"So, you've come all this way by yourself?"

"Yes," said Stephanie. "I'm more than able to take care of myself."

"Travelling on to your final destination tonight or are you staying in the city?"

"I plan to stay overnight and leave tomorrow."

He leaned over to her, invading her personal space and trailing his finger down Stephanie's arm. "I know the area. I'll take you to dinner. Tell me the name of your hotel and I'll pick you up at seven."

She'd forgotten how some men could behave. No wolf in Marco's pack or at her old club in Florence, Dante's, would touch a woman without an invitation. Stephanie leaned in, smiled, grasped his finger and bent it backwards, making him gasp.

"Had you bothered to ask," she said sweetly, refusing to release his finger, "I would have told you no. But since you didn't, let me make it clear. If you don't get out of my personal space, the least of your worries will be what I'm doing to your finger."

Stephanie released him, and he jerked his hand backwards and seemed to flatten himself against the far edge of his seat.

"You bitch," he snarled.

"You have no idea," Stephanie said with a laugh before turning in her seat and looking out the window.

The rest of the flight passed uneventfully, and she sailed through customs with her carry-on baggage. She had shipped everything else the previous week to be delivered to her new home. Stephanie watched as the man from the plane headed toward the baggage claim area. Her cell rang and she answered it.

"Stephanie? It's Kayla Conroy. How was your flight?"

Evan Conroy was the head vintner at Luna de Lobo as well as the pack's omega, Kayla's mate.

"It was good," she said, adjusting her carry-on bag and heading toward the car rental kiosks. "My seatmate on the last leg was a bit pushy but nothing I couldn't handle."

"Do you want us to come get you?" Kayla asked sounding concerned.

"No, I'm fine. Marco may be old school traditional, but he makes sure everyone in the pack can handle themselves."

"Sounds a lot like Damian. If you're sure you don't want us to come," said Kayla.

"That's really sweet, but I'll be fine. I'm headed to get my rental car."

"About that, we had to come into the city yesterday, so we brought a Jeep with us and left it for you with valet parking. We gave them your name. If you go down there and show them your passport, they'll bring you the Jeep. We thought it might be easier for you."

"That's so nice of you. Thank you so much," she said, changing direction to follow the signs to valet parking.

"It's one that has a removable top. If you don't know how, have one of the valet guys remove it for you. We thought you'd enjoy the drive up the Coast Highway with all that open air. It's the best way to experience it for the first time."

"Sounds great. I was going to try to rent a convertible or at least something with a moon roof," Stephanie said with a laugh.

"If you need anything or change your mind, just let us know. If not, we'll see you tomorrow for dinner. You'll be in the main house. I picked a room that isn't as big as some, but is good sized, with an attached bath, a cozy reading nook, and a balcony overlooking the Pacific."

"Sounds divine. Looking forward to meeting everyone tomorrow. Ciao!"

She ended the call smiling. Stephanie had overcome both Marco and Evan's concerns about her travelling alone and not being met by a member of her new pack. Making the trip alone was her way of proving to herself and others that she was no longer afraid and that she had reclaimed that part of herself that DeMoncada had thought to take away forever. She really was looking forward to meeting her new pack… tomorrow. Now, she would go get her Jeep, check in at the hotel and call Torch Light to see if her guest pass had been approved.

"He did what?" roared Damian. "What do we know about this she-wolf?"

Alexander Charles, beta to the pack, took a step back. Damian, the pack's alpha, could be… well he could be an alpha—tough, strong, intimidating—but they'd been friends and comrades for a long time.

"Damian," Xander said evenly, "Evan did exactly what you encouraged him to do. You told him he needed an assistant vintner and to find someone who knew what they were doing."

"And he picks someone from Italy? From the DeMedici pack?"

Xander shook his tawny-colored hair. He was not quite as tall as his alpha, but he had the same brawny, muscular physique. The winery had become more successful than any of them had imagined and they'd agreed that Evan needed help. Frankly Xander was impressed that Evan had been able to coax one of Marco DeMedici's she-wolves from their vineyard. While he loved living at the ocean, it did not compare to the sun-drenched beauty of Tuscany.

Knowing that it was sometimes best to meet Damian's aggressive stance with one of his own, Xander chose to confront his alpha. "What the hell is wrong with the DeMedici? They are an old and venerable pack. I've been told they have held their lands for more than a thousand years; their wines are among the most respected in the world."

Damian ran his hands through his coal black hair. "I'm just not comfortable with some of the older packs. What that bastard DeMoncada did…"

"Yeah, but Marco was one of those who was first to take a stand against the Ruling Council and go after DeMoncada and his goons. Unlike some of the old aristocratic packs, he has no problems with those who aren't shifter born. He even chose a human for a mate and turned her with her consent. They refer to her…"

"I know… as the Madonna of the DeMedici." Damian expelled his breath. "So, what do we know about this she-wolf?"

"Human born. DeMoncada and his thugs kidnapped she and her sister and turned them. Both were rescued by the Welsh Wolf and he took them to DeMedici. The other sister is their chief medic and midwife. Stephanie is younger and has shown a real aptitude for winemaking. She knows a lot about their growing, harvesting, and bottling techniques. Evan thinks she could be invaluable. And the girl is unmated. In case you missed it, we could use some unmated she-wolves."

Part and parcel of being one of the ranked members of a pack was ensuring the health and longevity of that pack. The best packs consisted mostly of mated pairs, some of which were said to be fated… to follow one another from one life to the next. Xander wasn't sure he believed in fated mates, but he wanted to.

Becoming a wolf-shifter had altered his view of the world. The first thing that had thrown him—after the whole being able to become a wolf—was how heavily male dominated the packs were. At first the idea of disciplining a she-wolf had been contrary to the way he was raised. But as he lived as a wolf, he realized there were advantages as roles were clearly defined and the women were, in the right kind of pack, cherished. For the most part, wolfen society worked and most everyone was happy.

"Point taken."

"Is it? We have an alpha who should be mated."

Damian groaned. "Are you sure you weren't born a wolf or an old woman? Gods, you're a nag."

"As I understand it, part of my job is to keep our alpha happy and a she-wolf in your bed would go a long way toward accomplishing that."

"This from a guy who drives an hour south to get laid at a kink club."

"Don't knock it until you've tried it."

"Just tell me you and Evan aren't playing matchmaker again."

Xander laughed and shook his head.

"We've given up on that. Three times we've tried… and three times you've redirected the female in question to another member of the pack."

"What's wrong with that? We added three lovely she-wolves to our number, who are all happily mated. Our men see me as magnanimous for allowing them to claim females you and Evan had destined for me."

Xander snorted. "I got news for you… no one is buying the ‘I did it for my pack' routine. You didn't want them, so instead of insulting them or their original packs, you found them the perfect mate among our men."

Before Damian could interrupt him, he held up his hand. "I'm not saying you're wrong. As well paired as they are, you were right."

Damian grinned at him. The alpha of Luna de Lobo pack could be charming when he chose to be.

"That's because I'm a benevolent alpha who thinks only of his pack."

Xander barked a short laugh. "Sell that shit to someone who hasn't known you as long as I have. You realized that they would never be able to stand up to you. It took me a while to figure out you are never going to even look twice at a woman unless she's willing to get in your face, roar back and kick you in the nuts when you're being an asshole."

"A she-wolf trying the latter would find herself face down getting her ass blistered before she knew what had happened to her." Damian snarled.

"Maybe, but you have to admit, you want a she-wolf you can tangle with, one who isn't afraid to go toe-to-toe with you."

"Don't think my mate…"

"Well, there's progress; I do believe that's the first time you've admitted you even want a mate."

"Don't be an ass, Xander."

"Not ass, Alpha, wolf-shifter. You saw to that for which I am eternally grateful."

Damian chuckled. "You weren't when you first woke up. As I recall you punched me in the nose."

"You have to admit it's a bit much realizing you've been mortally wounded only to wake up and find out that not only did you survive, but your DNA has been altered and you are now some kind of freak."

Damian stopped his restless pacing and looked him straight in the eye.

"You don't really think of yourself as a freak, do you?"

Xander smiled. Damian might be a sonofabitch, but he was a good alpha and cared about those he led.

"Sometimes, but it's okay, I'm a Dom so I long ago accepted I was a bit of a freak."

Damian relaxed. "I had planned to tell you everything and offer to turn you, but when you took that bullet through your lung, I ran out of time. The only choice was turn you without your consent or let you die… and I wasn't willing to do that."

"I know. As I said, I am grateful. Not only did you change my DNA, but you also changed my life. You gave me a home and a family, a job and a purpose in life. I owe you in ways too numerous to count. And speaking of getting a purpose in life… has the last of our errant surfer girls decided to settle down and behave?"

Xander had been in the city the night that two of their unmated she-wolves decided to go surfing… at night… in a storm. One of the pair had taken her punishment to heart, settled down and was now happily mated. The other, Shasta, continued to be an issue. She was defiant, unruly and had a sensuality that called to many a male wolf.

Damian growled. "They could have gotten themselves killed. When we fished them out of the water, we pumped about ten gallons of sea water out of them. When I questioned their decision-making process…"

"That's you trying to be charming, right? You didn't question anything. They scared the shit out of you and so you bellowed at them…"

"And their response was to get mouthy and disrespectful."

"I'm not saying they didn't deserve to be punished. Being spanked by their alpha and grounded to the estate's main area was exactly what I would have done. Nobody, other than Shasta, thinks you went overboard. She's bitched about it and has let it be known that getting spanked by her alpha was not something she wanted to experience again."

Damian smiled grimly. "And she's managed to avoid that, although I know you've had to get after her a couple of times since then."

Damian walked to the window and looked out over the grape vines toward the sea.

"Nevertheless, you still need a mate."

Damian looked back at him and rolled his eyes before turning back. "Give it a rest, Xander," he said softly. "I'm too busy for a mate. The winery is just starting to make real money. We're having to take fewer and fewer mercenary jobs. For the record… fuck it, it doesn't matter."

"What, Damian? What doesn't matter?" Xander said, sensing he might be close to finding out what lay beneath Damian's reticence.

For all his strength, courage, and honor, his alpha was an enigma to all of them. He was so integral to the health, happiness, and prosperity of their pack, but something about Damian always seemed to elude everyone.

"Promise me you won't laugh."

"We both know I can't promise that, but I can promise to keep it between us."

"You're an asshole, Xander," Damian chortled. "Remind me why it is I saved your sorry ass?"

"Because I'm the asshole who will always have your back, I've been your second-in-command for as long as either of us can remember, and you couldn't do without me."

Damian turned back at him and smiled. "You aren't wrong."

"So, what is it, Damian?"

Xander usually wasn't one to press his oldest and best friend, but he sensed this time, he might actually get to the root of the problem.

Once Xander accepted Damian's decision to save his life, he realized his life and worldview had been changed forever. He had been startled to learn the similarities and differences between human and shifter societies. The wolves had maintained a male dominant hierarchy with she-wolves having less autonomy than their male counterparts. Most curious had been learning that in the last vestiges of their lupine ancestors, male alpha wolf-shifters could, in their human state, form a knot at the base of their cock. At least monthly, they were driven to breech their mates with it, flooding them with their seed and then being tied to them for hours.

Damian shook his head. "Foolish as it may sound, I have no desire to form a bonded pair with anyone other than my fated mate."

"How will you find her if you don't look?"

Damian smiled ruefully. "Sometimes I forget you weren't born wolf. It isn't a question of meeting someone and as you get to know them you figure it out. It's more like being hit over the head with the realization the first time you encounter it. Male wolves are born with the aroma of their fated mate in their nostrils. From the moment you scent it, you know. There is a primal urge to mark and claim her. And for an alpha the need to allow a knot to form so you can breach her with it and tie her to you is almost untenable."

"You alphas and your damn knots. They sound like a lot more trouble than they're worth."

"Could be."

"Don't you know?" asked Xander a bit surprised at Damian's openness.

"In theory only. I've never knotted and tied a woman to me."

"Never?" he asked, surprised.

"Not as a human. I can usually find a willing she-wolf when the urge gets to be too much, but only in wolf form."

"As long and as well as we've known each other," said Xander, "you still have the ability to surprise me. I would have thought, given what I've heard about an alpha's need to knot a female, that you wouldn't make the distinction between human and wolf form."

"And this is the point where you laugh your ass off at the realization that your big, tough, vile-tempered and aggressive alpha is actually an incurable romantic," said Damian.

Xander stood, looking his alpha in the eye. "No, this is where I pour my alpha a really good whiskey and stare out the window with him."

"Shouldn't we crack open a bottle of our own vintage?"

"We could… except neither of us likes wine."

The two stood side-by-side, sharing the silence.

"Alpha," Evan said, knocking on the office door before entering.

Damian turned to face him. "Did you collect your new assistant?"

"No. She wanted to spend the next day and a half in the city and do a little sightseeing. She's never even been to the West Coast. Kayla and I left one of the Jeeps at the airport for her when we took that case of wine to be shipped. We figured it would be easier and if something happened, we'd be able to track her."

"Good thinking," said Xander.

"She had a bit of trouble with a guy on the plane, but Kayla said Stephanie took care of it herself."

"All the same, make sure we know where she's staying and what she's up to. I'd hate to tell Marco DeMedici that we'd lost his she-wolf."

"Our she-wolf," corrected Evan and Xander in unison.

"Do you two practice that? But I stand corrected, our she-wolf. Xander, since you're going into the city tonight, see if you can't make sure she arrived safely. Make sure our people know she is one of ours."

"Should we be concerned about the man on the plane?" asked Xander.

"Kayla didn't seem to think so. Stephanie said Marco made sure his people knew how to protect themselves."

"If our new Italian she-wolf is half as pretty as Kayla, she's probably had a lot of experience fending off unwanted advances," said Xander with a smile.

"She's not Italian. She's American, from Chicago. Luca said she's a really sweet girl, pretty with strawberry blonde hair. She seemed really nice and knowledgeable when I interviewed her. Our male wolves are going to be buzzing around her," Evan explained.

"See that she understands the rules and that our males are reminded she is pack first and potential mate second," said Damian.

"Are you worried about her?" asked Evan.

"Not particularly, but with that she-wolf out of the Willamette Valley pack missing, I think it's important that we tighten up security."

"Does Linc think it's Hunters?" asked Xander.

"Yes, but my younger brother thinks anything suspicious that happens to a wolf is Hunters."

"Do you think he's wrong?" asked Evan.

"Not necessarily, and in this instance, he's probably right. No need to take chances."

After arriving at her hotel, Stephanie called Torch Light.

"Torch Light," said a deep voice.

"Is this the BDSM club?" she asked.

The man chuckled. "Yes, the City by the Bay's oldest and best. We just don't generally announce it when we answer the phone. What can I do to help?" asked a deep voice.

"Uhm, hi. I just moved to Sonoma from Italy. I was a member of Dante's and your club was recommended to me."

"Stephanie Savik, I presume," said the voice with a hint of amusement.

"Yes, how would you know?" she asked suspiciously.

"Seraphina Vilotti is an old friend, and I was lucky enough to scene with her back in the day. She called ahead to vouch for you. Based on Sera's recommendation, I'll act as your second sponsor. I have your application and Sera forwarded your background check and last medical screening. As it was just a few weeks ago and came back clean, I'll be issuing a guest pass you can use until you get approved."

"That would be great. I'd hoped to get to Dante's before I left Italy and didn't have time. Any chance I could come by tonight?"

"Absolutely, I'll leave your name at the door. Just asked for Nic, short for Dominic… I know, Dom the dom."

"Dom de dom dom," Stephanie said in tune to the old Dragnet television show theme.

Nic laughed. "I've heard that one too, but not for a long time and you do it well. What can I say? I don't think my mom ever envisioned her precious baby boy using a flogger on willing, naked females. Any chance you're a willing, naked female?"

Stephanie laughed. "I am. I'm a big fan of impact and sensation play."

"Stephanie, my guess is Sera is right… you'll be beating off the other Doms with a stick, but not to worry. Just like at Dante's you are absolutely safe here. We have valet parking for subs at the back entrance and you will be escorted in and out of the club."

"Thanks, I'll probably see you about seven."

"Great. Like I said, I'll leave your name at the door. Just go around to the back entrance and then ask for me."

Stephanie spent the rest of the day visiting Fisherman's Wharf and Alcatraz. When she returned to the hotel, she grabbed a quick shower and dressed in an oversized V-necked sweater, leggings, and boots. After applying her makeup, she spotted the last remnants of the bite mark that had changed her world forever. Touching it brought forth a wellspring of mixed emotions. On the one hand, she deeply resented having been turned without her consent and having all of her plans and dreams ripped away from her. On the other hand, had she not been turned, she never would have experienced all the wonders and joys of the past year. Perhaps someday the mark would be replaced by that of a wolf to whom she would have given her consent. She grabbed her bag for the club, got back into the Jeep and arrived at Torch Light shortly before seven.

Following Nic's instructions, she pulled to the back of the club. A valet opened her car door and helped her out.

"Stephanie Savik?" he asked politely.

"I am…"

"Nic told us you'd be the only guest tonight."

"Isn't the club open?"

"Absolutely. There are plenty of members, but you're the only non-member, so it was easy to figure out. Let me walk you in and get Nic."

He ushered her inside. Stephanie stuttered to a stop and glanced around in awe. The interior was a revelation. The outside had appeared just to be an old warehouse down on the wharf. The interior was a lush Art Deco extravaganza. She inhaled deeply and smiled. Wolfen senses often came in handy. The club smelled clean and fresh. She could detect several wolves, other shifter types, but the majority of the patrons were human. Nic was decidedly human which was a shame. Having sex with a human always put the human at risk. On the other hand, she wasn't sure she was interested in sex.

"This is gorgeous," she said rapturously.

"From someone who is a member at Dante's that is quite the compliment, and I thank you. I'm Nic. Thanks, Joey. You found us all right?"

"Well, the navigation unit did."

"Did you bring fet wear with you? Like most clubs, street clothes are only allowed in selected areas. The walkways to the exits, the foyer, the lounges, and the bar area. We have one large scening area and a more intimate one, plus four private play spaces and then three additional small aftercare areas. Aftercare can be done just about any place, including the bar. Would you like a drink? You can see the main scening area from there."

"Thanks, and yes I did bring some club wear with me. If there are any Doms that I might be able to negotiate a scene with, I'd appreciate it."

"What are you looking for and would you like me to negotiate for you this first time? Normally, we prefer subs negotiate their own scenes, but recognize it can difficult, if not impossible for some, and that new members may feel better if one of the resident Doms helps them."

"I can negotiate for myself, but if you could introduce me to some of the Doms who are good with a flogger, I would really appreciate it."

"Sounds good. Do you want to change first or have that drink?"

"I think I'll change first."

"Annabeth? Would you show our guest to the ladies lounge?"

"Sure boss. Come on," she said, turning back the way she'd come.

They walked into the submissives' lounge and Annabeth showed her to an empty locker.

"This place is a lot like Dante's…" said Stephanie.

"In Florence? The Dante's in Italy?"

"The one and only, but Torch Light reminds me of it. Nice place?"

"The best. I had to save up to join, but it's so worth it. Now I work to pay for my membership. I work three nights a week and get to keep the tips. I make more here than working at my aunt's nursery. Subs are treated really well, and you always feel safe although sometimes, they're a bit much."

"How so?" questioned Stephanie as she began to undress.

One of the things she'd loved about BDSM clubs from the beginning was the acceptance of different body shapes and sizes. From the moment she had discovered them, she had begun to accept her body and soon lost any sense of modesty. In fact, she had become a bit of an exhibitionist.

"Don't get me wrong, it's kind of sweet, but unless you're leaving here with a Dom, you're expected to call back to the club when you get home. Failure to do so gets you a discipline session with Master Alex."

"Sounds a little like Dante's. Part of you thinks it's overkill and another part thinks it's kind of nice."

Annabeth laughed. "And the part that gets spanked reminds you never to do it again. Your corset is gorgeous. Need some help with the laces?"

"That would be great. Who is Master Alex?"

"He's one of the Resident Doms of the Club. There are two others, Nic being one of them. The Managing Dom is Lincoln Steele. At least one Resident Dom or Linc is here whenever the club is open."

Stephanie slipped out of her clothes and into her corset and thong. Lincoln Steele? Was he kin to Damian or was that just Damian using a different name as his club persona? Annabeth proved to have a deft hand with the laces and soon she was cinched in and ready to go. They walked back to the lounge where Nic waited and Annabeth slipped behind the bar.

"What are you drinking, Stephanie?" asked Nic.

"I used to live in Italy, and I loved it, but I swear to God the bartenders there can't make a peach margarita on the rocks to save their lives."

Annabeth laughed. "Girlfriend, you came to the right place. I make the best flavored margaritas on the planet and on the rocks is my specialty. Salt, sugar, or naked?"

"Naked."

"Come on, let's get comfortable. Master Alex is here. There are few as good with a flogger as Alex. Annabeth will bring you your drink."

The leather club chairs were large and comfortable. Stephanie imagined they had been acquired for the comfort of a Dom to hold a sub in his/her lap. She settled back and sipped her margarita. Annabeth hadn't lied, her drink was perfection. She began to relax until the feeling of a thousand bees or more assailed her.

She'd heard the feeling explained, but never thought to feel it… a kind of wildfire surging through her veins… the recognition of her fated mate.