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Morris, and he’s begging me to become his first wife.”

Brittany was trying to get under my skin. It was working, just not in the way she intended. I couldn’t care less if she slept with Tom, Dick or Harry, or Tom’s hairy dick. She could bang every lion shifter in the state of Florida for all I cared. I just wanted her to shut the hell up. My head was beginning to throb.

“And where I go, Ashley goes.” She pointed emphatically to Ashley who was sitting angrily on my sofa tapping her foot and giving me the evil eye.

I was about to toss Brittany some snippy comeback like I’ll call a cab for your Brexit, but I really didn’t want to add fuel to her fire. She already seemed to be casing my apartment, looking for something to throw at me.

I simply nodded to her, then to Ashley. “My congratulations. To you both.”

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say.

“Ugh! You are such an asshole!”

Well, what the fuck did she want?!

She threw the TV remote at my head.

I ducked.

It missed.

So she picked up a vase and hurled that. Missed again. When the vase shattered to the ground, she stomped over and swung a few punches. “You’d just let us go that easily?”

I held my hands up to fend off the attack. “I would…um…support you in any direction you felt was best for your future happiness.”

“Is that so?” Her finger wagged in my face. “Well, you’re not getting rid of us. It’s time you man-beast up and make this grouping an official Pride.”

“Told you Brit, I’m not prepared to form a Pride just yet.” I took a step back in case she decided to Mike Tyson me again.

“Oh really? Well, I suggest you get prepared. I have power among the local lionesses. I can blacklist you. Then good luck finding any wives for your Pride that aren’t butt ugly or older than dirt.”

She wasn’t issuing idle threats, I knew that. So I pretended to care. Brittany was perfect first wife material. She was a bitch—ruthless, cunning, and she took no shit.

I couldn’t stand her.

It was mutual. She couldn’t stand me either.

Not that that mattered in lion shifter prides. Romantic love was non-existent among our kind.

For us, it was about the three P’s: power, prosperity, and prestige. That was how a male built his Pride, and what a female looked for when considering joining a Pride.

Oh, and a fourth P—polygamy.

Brittany and Ashley glowered at me, waiting for me to say something, but I was done. The tension was too thick, and I wasn’t in the mood to deal with them.

I snatched my truck fob off the hall table. “I have things to do this afternoon. You two lock up when you leave.” I gestured to the shards of broken glass and returned their glares—one at a time. “And clean that mess up before you go.”

As I swung open the door, Brittany decided to get in one last jab. “Make no mistake, this is an ultimatum, Dylan King.”

Last straw.

I turned to face her and let loose an earth shattering roar that shook the windows in their panes. Shit, I hated to do that. Things like that were difficult to explain to the neighbors.

Both Brittany and Ashley shrunk as the wave of dominance rolled over them and flooded the room. Their bodies slumped and they bared their necks in submission.

I wasn’t as big a bastard as it sounded. Lion shifter males were expected to put on a show of dominance in situations like this. It was the only way we maintained respect among our kind.

Massaging my temple, I strode out to my truck and climbed in.

Brittany was no different from most lionesses. All she cared about were those three P’s, and I had them: power inherited from my father, prestige as the only son of the Chancellor of the lion shifter community, and financial prosperity from selling my tech company for a bundle a few years back. I was considered a catch among our kind. Unfortunately.

It was why Brittany chose me. Ashley…well, the only thing Ashley wanted was Brittany.

I didn’t give a rat fart about Brittany and her power to blacklist me, although I knew her threats weren’t idle. She’d use it if it served her purpose. The thing that felt like a kick in the nuts was that the Brittany and Ashley were right. I couldn’t keep putting it off.

It was time for me to start a Pride.

3

Elin

“There are scores of dating sites for you to choose from.” Parker shoveled another of my chocolate fudge brownies in her mouth. She raised herself to her knees on the stool and leaned across the bar top to see around Laila and Grace who were standing between us, deep in conversation.

She waved her smartphone, jabbed at the screen a few times, then slid it across the bar toward me. “There you go. Bliss Match, the number one most trusted and highest rated dating site—for humans.”

I sighed and glanced briefly at the phone without reaching for it. “No thanks.”

Parker kept the phone where it was, midway between us, even though I sat three barstools down. She didn’t give up. She leaned farther, examining one of the profiles. Well, would you look at this hunka-hunka…” Pinching the screen to zoom in on his full-body pic she squinted at the crotch area. “Whoa…and check out his burning love!”

I winced and looked away quickly, but she kept going. “Michael. Six foot two inches, 30 years old. Likes long walks in the park and watching the sunset on a sandy beach. Oh! He volunteers at an animal shelter—”

Arden, seated to my right, shook her head. “Parker, you know she wants a shifter. She’s only said it a million times.”

Arden Richardson, soon to be Arden Bennett, and I had been best friends for over a decade, ever since we were the only two flat-chested, late-blooming dweebs amongst the crowd of beautifully blossoming pre-socialites at Fuller Academy, an

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