The stars twinkled above the lone gas station, their faint glow barely illuminating the rooftop. Laughter echoed for several feet around, breaking the stillness of the night. A sudden crash followed—a beer bottle flung carelessly across the back of the building, shattering against the pavement.
Two naked figures lay tangled beneath a thin sheet, bodies pressed close in the warm night air.
Alfredo popped the cap off another bottle, laughing alongside Beatrice. "Nah, you think I'm kidding? From here to Tupelo, your Daddy Al's been around plenty. Shoot, they couldn't pay me all the money in the world to mess with a cat up north. Hah! No Yankee prissy pussy for me, thank you very much." He chuckled, taking a swig.
He absentmindedly rubbed the side of his neck, where fresh scratches had already begun to scab—remnants of their earlier romp.
Beatrice, still sprawled beside him, smiled as she finished off the last of their six-pack. "Either way, I 'aven't 'ad this much fun in a wile. Shit, just a year ago, every bit of fun we 'ad was just ta keep our residency. It's fahkin' nice, fawr once, ta root 'n drink just because I want ta, not because I av ta."
Alfredo took another pull from his beer and smirked. "Your time served got you too wound up, babydoll. Makes two of us. I haven't had this much fun since my last trip home a few months ago. Heh, you little ladies love to claw and pull hair. Not much fight left in ya when I'm between your legs, taking your last breath."
Beatrice rolled her eyes. She had dealt with plenty of so-called "tough guys" before—men who loved to run their mouths about how dangerous they were. If Alfredo ever tried to kill her for his own sick kinks, he'd learn real quick just how much stronger she was than any human man.
"Doesn't phayse me, Southern Belle," she shot back, drunken and unbothered. "I liyyke a good scrap, 'n now I know ya do too. So, there's nothin' ta squabble about. We got all night until sunrise, right?"
Alfredo thought for a moment, his drunken mind sluggish. "Yeah… mornin' comes, and we see Tink's truck on the horizon. That's when we clock out. Till then? Plenty of time for fun—so long as your sister doesn't get into more fights with my brother." He laughed, remembering the brawl between Freddy and Tex before they left.
Beatrice groaned, covering her face with her hand. "Oh god, that girl. She's just liyyke a little child, jealous 'n possessive ovah their new shiny toy. She's got a lot of growin' up ta do. Animals liyyke us shahah wat we get. Liyyke how the seasons go, don't keep with the bloody same catch they bagged yeahrs previously, ya'ah gonnah mix it up. Ya clin' on; ya get disappointed. She's young, but she'll leahrn."
Alfredo laced his fingers behind his head, smirking. "Sounds to me like she just needs to fuck him and get it over with. Hell, she won't get bored—not with me, Tinker, and my cousins around. We got plenty to show her."
Beatrice cackled at his crude remark. "I'd liyyke ta see ya try. Knowin' how my sisder is, she'll be stuck on Tex fawr a long time unless somethin' else magically sweeps hah off hah feet into anothah fantasy."
"Shoot," Alfredo drawled, looking her over. "I know I'll never get bored of you."
Beatrice smirked. "And wy's that?" She propped herself on her side, watching him.
Alfredo smirked back, his dark eyes gleaming. "I saw what magic tricks you performed today, all brown-skinned with that spicy tongue. I know I'll never get bored of you. You got every woman's charm there ever was. What more could a man ask for?"
Beatrice sat up, her expression mischievous. Then, right before Alfredo's eyes, her face morphed—her features shifting seamlessly into his own. His beard, his foggy eye, his smirk—perfectly mirrored back at him. When she spoke, it was in his exact voice.
"Gotta make me feel like I'm the only girl in the world."
Alfredo burst into laughter as Beatrice laughed back before letting her face melt into its original form.
He knew deep down how terrifying her abilities were but figured she wouldn't do anything to kill him. Both knew they would have a lot of fun together, and Alfredo was more than happy to indulge.
The night settled after the hunt. Qiana and Rachel helped Julibee and the twins process the meat for tomorrow, storing it in the deep freeze, while Malachai, Ian, and Michael assisted Thomas with the heavy lifting. A sense of peace washed over the family as their stockpiles filled, and the shifters' cooperation became more solidified.
As the shifters hung their clothes on the line and disappeared into the trees for the night, Qiana made her way to her room, preparing for bed. Brushing her hair, she thought about Malachai—their last conversation still lingering in her mind. She decided to be the bigger person, to break down the wall between them. The Aussies were more kin to the family now.
I have to make this work.
She knocked on Malachai's door, but before it even opened, a familiar scent hit her. Her stomach dropped.
The door creaked open, revealing Rachel, just as she had expected. Smug as ever, Rachel gave Qiana a knowing smile before sauntering past her and heading down the hall.
Ignoring the sting in her chest, Qiana stepped into Malachai's room, shutting the door behind her. He sat on the bed, his posture heavy, but all she could focus on was the lingering scent of Rachel on his blankets.
"So, care to explain what that was all about?" she asked, arms crossed.
Malachai let out a tired sigh. "We were just talking. Please, it's not what you're thinking." His voice carried a note of frustration.
Qiana scoffed, refusing to let her emotions be brushed aside. "I don't even care if you two share a bed. What hurts me is that she never stops talking shit, and not only do you let it happen, but whenever we fight, you start talking shit right along with her."
Before she could say more, Malachai suddenly stood and kissed her—swift, desperate, silencing her. He pulled back only slightly, his forehead nearly touching hers.
"Come sit down. Let me explain."
Cautiously, she walked over and sat beside him, her heartbeat still quick from his impulsive move.
"Rachel was just telling me about some concerns Michael and Ian have," he admitted. "They think that, at any moment, you could snap and kill us all in our sleep. I told her I'd talk to you about it soon."
Qiana narrowed her eyes. "So you think I'm just waiting for the right time to go on a rampage?"
Malachai hesitated. "How am I supposed to convince them you won't? Other than pointing out that you haven't yet?"
Talk was cheap. Her friends had already killed for the family. The only way to prove loyalty to humans was through action—something tangible. A simple, undeniable solution came to her.
"I dunno. Marry me?"
Malachai blinked, caught off guard, before laughing at the absurdity of it. But Qiana leaned in closer, her gaze unwavering.
"Wouldn't you want to anyway?"
His face turned beet red, his confidence faltering, "I—I do. I… I'd want to do it the right way."
"Then make sure everyone, especially Rachel, understands that."
Malachai exhaled, his expression softening. "She isn't on the same level as you. I mean that. You're always on my mind—when I wake up when I go to bed. At first, it made me angry, because I was supposed to watch you for the family. Because I had to see you as an outlander, an enemy."
He pulled her close, his arms firm around her. "But I don't anymore. I see something real with you. Possibly forever… if you'll have me?"
Qiana nodded. "Then we'll do this the right way. How that looks… it's up to you now."
She pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek before standing.
At the door, she glanced back, taking in his angular facial features, the way his bare arms tensed slightly as he watched her go. Her heart swelled at the possibility of forever. With her mind drifting between doubt and hope, she turned away and walked back to her room, head in the clouds.
Freddy shifted back into her human form as she stormed into the abandoned house, her bare feet slapping against the worn floorboards. She didn't bother acknowledging Tex as she passed him, her mind too clouded with frustration. Instead, she headed straight for the watering hole, desperate to wash the blood off her skin.
As the cold water rushed over her hands, the weight of the night settled over her. The hunt was over. The kills were done. The family had already begun hauling the bodies down into the basement, working in near silence.
But that silence was what irked her the most.
She scrubbed harder, but the water couldn't wash away the feeling gnawing at her chest. A lump formed in her throat, and before she could stop herself, she was weeping.
She left the watering hole without drying off, her damp skin cool against the night air as she slipped into the old master bedroom. Years of neglect had left it hollow—just cracked wooden panels and layers of dust settling in the corners. A broken window let in a cool breeze.
Against the far wall lay a single mattress, tattered and sunken in. Freddy curled up on it, tucking her knees to her chest as she tried to quiet her sobs.
Then—footsteps.
She could hear him now.
Tex.
His scent drifted through the open door before he even spoke.
"Freddy!" His voice echoed through the house. "Now, Freddy, I know you're in here. Julibee told me you would be."
Freddy cursed under her breath. With family always around, she could never truly be alone.
Sitting up, she watched as Tex stepped through the bedroom door. He flashed her a smile—one that reminded her of how a man might look at his dog, affectionate but subtly possessive.
"Why you been hidin' from me, girl?" he drawled. "I know you saw me busy all day, but I wouldn't have wanted you ignorin' me. You still mad about our little fight earlier? C'mon now."
Freddy frowned, refusing to meet his gaze as he lowered himself onto the mattress beside her.
Finally, she spoke, her voice cold and deliberate. "I don't want anyone else ta av ya."
She lifted her eyes, and for a moment, all the anger inside her wavered. Staring at his soft lips, sharp jawline, & those damnably blue eyes made her feel weak.
Reaching out, she rested a hand on the side of his face, her fingertips grazing the rough stubble along his cheek.
"I want only ya." Her tone darkened. "If any woman—willin' awr unwilling, fahkin' alive awr neahr dead—comes between me 'n wat I want? She's cactus. Ya saw wat I did tonight. That was just one. I av it in me ta do it agayyn. Ovah 'n ovah."
Tex let out a quiet breath, more measured now. "Darlin', I don't doubt you can. Hope ya have it in ya to take me back."
Freddy's grin spread wide from ear to ear, her teeth flashing in the dim light. Reaching forward, she cupped his chin gently between her fingers.
"Show me," she whispered, her voice sultry. "Show me ya can truly be the bloke ta command me."
Wasting not a second thought, Tex grabbed her by the shoulders, planting a rough kiss on her lips as he laid her down on the mattress. Her legs parted, guiding his hands to grab and massage her thighs, causing Freddy to moan in his mouth. Tongues danced around tenderly, her hands then wandering the back of his head and upper back, dredging him closer into her. Tex took a moment to undo his pants and shirt, now naked, the warmth of his body met Freddy's as they held each other close in a passionate embrace. Fondling his way from her breasts, tugging at her nipples, she gasped. His hand reached for in between her legs, plunging his fingers deep, causing her to react in ecstasy.
"Man fuck this." Tex said faintly.
Breaking slightly away, he repositioned himself. Grabbing her body down more towards him on the mattress without a second to spare, he forced himself inside Freddy. Diving deep to the hilt, she sunk her nails into his back and across the surface of his skin. As his body moved more and more, Freddy wrapped her legs tight around his rocking body, feeling every stroke causing her to get wetter and wetter.
As she looked into his eyes, Freddy saw only the man she was now entirely devoted to. No words were needed—only the silent exchange of submission and ferocity. She pressed herself closer, clinging to him as though she could sink beneath his skin. For the first time, she felt absolutely loved and wanted. Tex would never understand how much this moment meant to her—how long she had searched for someone who would give her exactly what she craved. Giving, not taking. Just offering himself as she did.
But in her heart, she knew the truth. He would never be a match for her in a fight to the death.
She was a predator, acting as prey—and he would never know just how much that meant to her.