“I didn’t mean to,” he said, only to realize he didn’t really mind. Something about his Peanut had him acting strangely. Feeling different.
“Too late for regrets now,” snorted Lena. “For better or worse, you’re tied together. Until death do you part.”
“Need help with that part?” Lenore asked, cracking her knuckles.
“No. What I need is for you to fetch those snowmobiles while I try to figure out how to explain all this to Charlotte.” She’d not looked impressed when she’d stalked into the hut.
“Explain?” Lena doubled over laughing. “How you gonna explain that not only are you a big fucking liger but she’s your wife?”
The door flung open. “His what?”
He shriveled harder than the time he jumped into that glacier-fed lake. “I can explain.”
Chapter Ten
“I highly doubt any of you can explain this.” Because Charlotte certainly couldn’t comprehend how lions turned into naked ladies. And before anyone was mistaken, she didn’t mean the bare-naked singing kind but the steely-eyed, would rip her to shreds with their fingernails kind.
And Lawrence was not only related but one of them. What kind of freak had she hooked up with?
She wished she’d stayed to listen rather than storming off inside the cabin, only to realize her angry pacing and the sound of the crackling fire meant she couldn’t understand what was being said. Voices rose and fell while she was still coming to grips with what she’d seen.
Except there was no understanding it. People weren’t animals. And vice versa. They must have been wearing costumes that they flung off to confront her.
And what of Lawrence? He’d left wearing pants and returned naked because he’d changed out of his liger costume. Except she didn’t remember seeing any costumes on the ground.
“I know things seem a little strange right now, Peanut.”
“A little? I think we’re well past a little, Lawrence.” She stressed his formal name.
“If you’d like his full name, it’s Lawrence Gerome Luke Walker,” offered the one called Lena, her hair a short, ruffled cut that appeared a mix of gold and gray. Her features were weathered, yet attractive.
All the women had a beauty to them, and she would know since she kept her gaze on their faces. “Who are you?” she asked.
“I’m Lena. His favorite aunt,” Ruffle Cut offered.
The one with darker tresses and a silver streak snorted. “Please, we all know that’s me. I’m his aunt Lenore. He’s probably mentioned me.”
“Only if he wanted to chase her away and he obviously didn’t. Ignore them, dearest. I’m his favorite aunt, Lacey. My sisters just can’t stand to see our boy getting serious with anyone. I’m sure your mother is the same with you.”
“I don’t have a mother.”
“Well, that will make things easier,” Lacey said, earning a rebuke from Lawrence.
“Aunt Lacey!”
“What?” She blinked innocently.
Charlotte had no idea what Lawrence meant when he hissed, “Don’t you dare start.”
“Who, me?”
The innocent batting of the lashes had him groaning. “You have that devious look in your eye.”
“Don’t know what you mean.” Lacey eyed Charlotte up and down before asking, “Do you have a favorite color?”
“What?”
“Don’t tell her!” Lawrence barked, a look of panic in his gaze.
“Really, Roarie, how else will I adjust my binder if I don’t ask?”
“What binder?” she asked.
“The wedding one of course. Because you will be repeating your vows in front of friends and family.”
“Maybe he doesn’t want to perform in front of an audience,” Lena declared.
“I’m not marrying your nephew,” was Charlotte’s contribution.
“After what he did to you, that’s kind of a foregone conclusion, dearie.”
How did they know? Did it matter? Her cheeks heated. “I don’t know what hillbilly religious cult you’re from, but the fact we fooled around doesn’t mean we’re married. As a matter of fact, once I get out of these woods, I don’t plan on seeing him ever again.”
For some reason this brought first gaping mouths, then intense laughter.
“Oh, this is going to be fun,” snickered Lenore.
“We should go and let them have some privacy to talk,” Lacey stated, tugging at the other women.
“I want to stay and listen.” Lena dug in her heels.
“Give the boy some space.” Lacey dragged, and the aunts moved off. They started out as leggy women and morphed into lions.
Charlotte blinked.
Nope, still giant cats, which took precedence over her supposed marriage to Lawrence. “What is going on? Am I dreaming?”
“No.”
“But how… Is it magic? Are your aunts witches or something?”
“No. Even if they do at times cackle. Like I tried to tell you before, they’re shapeshifters.”
“Meaning they can turn into anything they like.”
“Just lions,” he corrected. “Shifters tend to only have one beast inside. Unless they’re hybrids, then sometimes you can tilt the balance depending on will and strength.”
“Hold on, you said shifters. Implying there are more of you?”
“There are quite a few species, actually.”
“Like wolves.”
“And bears. A few decades ago it included eagles, but given they’re almost extinct due to the avian flu, those are the main groups.”
She rubbed her forehead. “Your aunts are shifters and so are you.”
He nodded and, before she could ask, showed her. One minute big man, the next a massive cat. He wasn’t like anything she’d ever seen. His body and fluffy mane were mostly lion-like, but there was some striping in his fur, like that of a tiger.
She rocked on her heels and held in an urge to bolt. “I can’t believe it. You’re a bloody werelion.” And if they were anything like the werewolves of legend… Her eyes widened as her hand slapped her neck. “Fucking asshole. You bit me. Does this mean I’m going to turn into an animal, too?”
He changed back before he could reply. “We’re not contagious.”
“Says you. Have you had your shots?”
“No need. Shifters in general tend to be quite healthy.”
“Isn’t that lovely for you.” Not to mention she only had his word she wouldn’t become a monster on the full moon.
“Listen, I know this is a lot to take in.”
“Gee, do you think?” Her sarcasm rolled heavily off the tongue. “So how are werelions made anyhow? Do you even have parents? Or are those aunts like people who took you in once you turned out to be a furball?” Because she still had a hard time grasping that any of this was real. If people were having litters, wouldn’t the world know about it?
“They’re my family. They raised me after my parents died. Do you think I’d let them stalk and treat me like they do otherwise?”