Since I couldn't kill it, I had to get rid of it. What did I do? I caught sight of myself in the floor to ceiling mirror and tried to ignore the fact that all I could see reflected back at me were my wide blue eyes. What I couldn't see was the rest of me, the pale skin, the mile long legs, and too-generous hips and thighs. The dripping black hair sleeked to my scalp. The pointy fangs. None of it, because I was a walking spawn of Satan.

I tossed Beezlebub into the living room, grabbed the tallest glass from my kitchen, and played tag with the stupid mouse until I finally scooped it up and slammed a plastic dish over the top. No need to let it try and escape, right? Right.

Then I realized I was still buck naked, and I had to toss the mouse out into the yard. After I set the glass on my dresser, I snatched my nightshirt off the dirty clothes pile and pulled it over my head. With my Winnie-the-Pooh nighty stuck to my wet skin and the mouse in a glass, I jerked the door open and launched my uninvited guest...right into the broad, scrumptious chest of my worst nightmare.

Andre St. James, the man responsible for turning me into the undead. His large dark-skinned hand snapped out and caught the tail of the mouse. When he brought it up to his eye level, the hairy little guy squeaked in mad terror, prey before a predator. I could relate. I'd had those pale celery green eyes trained on me enough times to know that I melted into an orgasmic puddle within a few seconds. He dropped the mouse who, like a smart little rodent, ran like hell. Unlike me, who stayed where I was with my mouth agape.

"Cynthiana." The way he said my name, with an emphasis on the first syllable, made it sound like something naughty and sinful. His Noo Awlins accent made everything sound naughty. The man could read a phonebook, and I'd get turned on.

Heat flooded my body, and my nipples tightened. His eyes zoomed right in on the pointed tips. I swallowed.

Don't panic, girl! He's a bad, bad man who turned you without asking pretty please first. Even if he was gorgeous and had skin like yummy milk chocolate. Even though he tasted just as good as he looked. Oh, yeah…I really, really loved chocolate. Wait, what was I thinking? Bad, bad man. Remember? Shit.

"Yes, Satan?" I propped my forearm of the doorjamb and cocked a hip. My other hand kept a death grip on the doorknob. Right now, it was the only thing keeping me from flinging myself at him and begging him to shake me all night long.

His full lips quirked, and I swayed toward him. "Invite me in."

"No." The word escaped as a sigh.

His long finger lifted to stroke my elbow, the only part of me that stuck out of the doorway. Hot flashes rippled out from the touch, and I wanted to rip my jammies off and run around with my panties on my head. If I had any on. Which I didn't.

"Invite me to come inside."

"Come inside me." The words fell out of my mouth before I knew what I meant to say. Warmth rushed up my cheeks. Oh, shit on a stick. I had not just said that. I had not.

"As you wish, cherie." A full blown smile spread over his face. Damn, it made his already gorgeous features just…perfect. My stomach executed a slow flip. He stepped over the threshold.

I put up a hand and scrambled back. "Wait. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. That's not what I meant."

"I'd always thought you were a woman of your word." He kept coming towards me. Stalked me. One step forward for him and two steps back for me. I couldn't let him touch me again. The night would start out with a bang. Literally. That would be a huge mistake. I'd done that before and look where it got me. One way ticket to Fangville.

More words went by, and Malcon's picture flashed beside mine, but I'd seen all I wanted. More than I wanted, in fact. I was no one's mate. I didn't even want to get married. A few people turned to look from me to the screen and back again, so I spun on my heel and walked back out to the parking garage, growing angrier and angrier by the moment. Why would Malcon release a statement like that to the press? This was ridiculous. I slammed into my car as a thought made ice water flow through my veins. Malcon had bitten me last night. Not unusual when fucking a fanged race, but those bites didn't leave a scar like a mate mark would. My hand shook as I flipped down the mirror on my sun visor and pushed my hair back to see the side of my neck.

There was a scar. He'd marked me. Rage exploded inside me and I closed my eyes, letting my hair fall back into place. There was no way in fucking hell that I was going to give up my hard earned independence to be the queen of the wolves. And it was really sweet of him to mention he thought we were mated when he asked me to dinner. Thanks so much, jackass. I revved the engine on my car, left the parking lot in the dust, and was a block away from Malcon's office before I realized where I was going.

I still hadn't managed to quell my anger. Oh, well. He was going to get it now.

Fifteen minutes later, my three inch heels pounded a staccato beat on the marble floor of the huge building that housed the international organization owned by the wolf pack. It was a good thing I was wearing my usual backless blouse today because I was so pissed I couldn't have kept my wings in if I tried. The air crackled around me as I moved, and everyone in the vicinity either turned to stare at me or jumped out of my way. I somehow doubted I'd have that kind of effect on the Alpha, which just pissed me off even more. The wolf would be lucky if he didn't come out of this neutered.

A bony woman leaped to her feet when I entered the reception area of the pack leader headquarters. Her welcoming smile deflated when she got a good look at my face. "Ms. Parthon! What a surprise. Can I--"

I heard the low, sexy timbre of Malcon's voice coming through an open doorway and I walked toward it. The receptionist gasped and babbled some protest, but I ignored her. I was not giving Malcon a chance to refuse to see me. He was dealing with me right now. Period.

Storming into the room, I didn't even pause when I saw a huge meeting was taking place. Men ringed a long conference table with Malcon at its head. He had a look of calm control that just reminded me how out of control I felt, which did nothing to improve my mood.

"Pixie." He was on his feet the moment he spotted me and every other person in the room leapt to follow suit. His gaze cut to the woman trailing in behind me. "It's all right, Martha." His gaze moved back to me. "What can I do for you?"

I tilted my head to the side, widened my eyes, and propped my hand on a cocked hip. "Gee, I don't know, but did you hear the local werewolf Alpha was mated last night? I saw it on the news. I just wanted to come down and congratulate you."

And that's when it hit him just how pissed I was. I watched the realization flash in his eyes, but not a flicker of emotion crossed his otherwise contained expression. He looked at me while he addressed everyone else. "Gentlemen, give us the room. Now."

I'd never seen werewolves scatter and scurry so fast in my life. It would have been more satisfying if it hadn't been Malcon who made it happen.

He sat back in his chair, steepling his fingers and pressing them to his lips as he regarded me for a long moment. I thought a small smile quirked his lips, but it was gone so fast I couldn't be sure. "You certainly know how to make an entrance."

"What can I say?" My smile was saccharine enough to send him into sugar shock, and I gave a delicate shrug. "I'm in show business."

He sighed and dropped his palms to the table in front of him. "I'm uncertain why you're upset about our mating. Want to give me a hint?"

"I had to find out about it on the news, Malcon!" I threw up my hands and started pacing back and forth in front of the table. My wings swished every time I turned. "You have to be kidding me."

"Why are you surprised? I asked you before I bit you." Standing, he approached my end of the table cautiously, as if I were some kind of rabid animal.

I snorted and folded my arms, which drew his dark gaze to my breasts. "I've been bitten by werewolves and vampires during sex before."

His eyes closed as awful realization crossed his handsome face. He swallowed hard. "You don't need to be having sex for a mate bite to work. It's not like a regular bite anyway. It's a magical marking."

"I got that when I saw the scar on my neck. That was definitely not something I've had before." Like a magical STD I'd never be able to get rid of. I nearly snarled at the thought. He had no right to rope me into something like this. Being wolf queen had a million strings attached, and I'd only bee looking for a one-nighter. How had this happened? "This can't be real. I'm going to wake up any moment, I know it."

He sighed and opened his eyes again. "I thought you were willing, but…we are mated."

"According to you and your kind, maybe. Not to me and mine."