Dante flashed into human form. He looked up at her with a tender expression that melted her.
"Ash," he said, without looking at the Dark-Hunter. "Could I trade another favor for you to watch my mate for me while my brothers and I take care of something?"
"Absolutely."
Dante placed one large, warm hand against her cheek, then chastely kissed the side of her face. He got up and gathered his brothers to him.
"We'll be back in a minute."
Before she could ask him where he was going, they vanished.
"What is he doing?" she asked Ash.
"Knowing Dante, I'm confident he's going to guarantee that your 'friends' never return to threaten you or anyone from your pack again."
It didn't take Dante long to find the rogue pack of Katagaria panthers. They were camped in a small, isolated commune just outside of Charleston.
Ironically, they even had a sign up declaring the area a wildlife preserve.
With his three brothers behind him, he walked through the wooded area until he found the first panther he'd fought. The panther was lying wounded with a human woman tending him.
"Who leads this pack?" he asked the pair.
The panther didn't answer, but when the petite, blond woman did, Dante recognized a voice that was almost identical in tone, accent, and cadence to Pandora's. "Aristotle is the regis. He's sleeping over there." She pointed to a tree.
Dante inclined his head respectfully to her, then went to the tree to call down their leader.
Aristotle responded by only opening one bored eye. "Who are you?"
"Take human form when you address me, you bastard." Dante said harshly. "Or there won't be enough left of your pack to even start a new one."
The panther flashed into human form, then moved to stand before Dante in a stance that said he was ready to fight. He was four inches shorter than Dante and had short black hair that matched his black soulless eyes.
"Who the hell are you?" he snarled.
"Dante Pontis."
Aristotle's eyes widened as he took an immediate step back.
Dante's brutal, take-no-prisoners reputation was known far and wide, and it was respected or feared by all their kind.
"To what do I owe this honor?" Aristotle asked.
"A group of your strati tried to take my mate from me. Now I'm here for blood."
Aristotle sputtered. "There was some misunderstanding. My men went after an Arcadian whor—"
Dante slugged him before he could finish the insult. "Pandora Kouti-Pontis is my mate. If you speak of her with anything other than extreme reverence in your tone, you piss me off."
Aristotle turned pale. "I had no idea she belonged to you. Believe me."
"Now you do, and if I ever see any of you near her again, I'll end all your problems. Permanently."
Pandora was sitting in the Grandstand Lounge with Acheron, his daughter demon Simi, and two gods while they waited for Dante's return.
This had to be the oddest moment of her life. The demon was busy eating an extremely rare hamburger drenched in barbecue sauce while the gods and Acheron were telling Pandora stories about how they'd all met Dante.
Apparently her mate had quite a rambunctious club that catered to all manner of bizarre clientele. The gods and Acheron made routine visits there.
