~Punch’s Point of View~ I quickly cut the ties on Nina’s wrists and ankles before dropping the knife in the van and heaving her out. No way am I gonna fucking carry her again. “Walk,” I demand, and push her. “Don’t do this Travis, the Flying Death don’t kill females,” Hazel shouts, and then I feel her knuckles punch my back. “Then leave, nobody is making you stay,” I say, but keep pushing Nina toward the water. There’s a couple cinder blocks and rope that we left here just in case, and I can use those to weigh her down. I tell myself all the obvious things: she deserves this, the world is better off. Literally, nobody will miss her. “Mick! Don’t let him do this,” Hazel shouts, her voice echoing off the water. I laugh. “He has no idea what this female has done to me, what she’s put me through. He wasn’t there to know how fucking bad it was to live with the shit choices she made. Year after year, I was never her priority. I was NEVER put first,” I shout. Nina begins to pull

~Punch’s Point of View~ ~One Month Later~ “I look like a fucking clown,” I groan, making a face in the mirror. That’s a testament to my current clothing debacle but it’s also a result of me not getting much sleep lately. I don’t think I’ve slept more than two or three hours a night in weeks. “I assure you, you look hot as hell. If you weren’t a teenager…” the female groans, licking her lips at me. My stomach flips and not in a good way. She’s pushing 50 and clearly not taking very good care of herself. For someone who probably works on commission she definitely shouldn’t be smoking at work. She reeks like she just put something out seconds ago. Pressing my lips together, I turn to get my side profile. The sales girl holds up some shoes that I know for a fact I will never wear. *This is the one,* Mick says, nodding his approval. I run my hand through my hair and sigh. How did I get talked into this? A whole month has gone by without Hazel in my bed, without her touches. Pathetic

~Hazel’s Point of View~ I shoot Kylie a sympathetic look as Missile and Klunk both crack open beers and chug them down. Surprisingly, Travis isn’t drinking and he hasn’t taken his hands off my body for a second. Its possessive and I fucking love it. Even if he’s just got his arm around me, it’s weird for people to see it. Kylie makes a face and lightly shakes her head. “I guess it’s still more entertaining than Jeopardy with my mom though this monstrosity is single handedly killing the ozone,” she says, just loud enough for me to hear. I can only grin at that, the female is barking up the wrong tree with this crowd. When Missile lights up a joint, Kylie moves away from him and looks insanely uncomfortable. I need to talk to her, tell her he’s a really good guy. But everyone will hear me and this is a private girl kind of chat. I’ve literally known him my entire life and he’s always been like a brother. I mean, a real brother! Not like a Travis brother… Ugh, yeah whatever. By the

~Hazel’s Point of View~ “I’m floating,” I moan, as I rub my fingers between my legs. My head swirls with thoughts of mating, thoughts of Travis marking me. It’s literally making me high, I feel so incredible that when he touches me I think I may very well be possessed. I feel so hot, as if I’ve been laying in the sun all day. It feels incredible, but the ache in my belly needs something more. I moan again, this time in approval when his hands glide up my legs and to my hips. He’s saying something, but it’s like a dream. Everything is swirling and cloudy, but I just need his hands on me. I’m so desperate. “Travis,” I murmur, just as I feel something cool against my face. Now I'm like a mermaid flapping in the water. It’s cool when I’m so hot, so fluid and so-- *Hmmmm, mate,* I hear, making my eyes pop open, only my vision is blurry and I can’t seem to focus it. I try to speak but it’s like something is competing with me. Wanting to talk through me, and my brain short circuits with

~Punch’s Point of View~ I forced myself to change my entire mentality during this week to try and become Travis again, the male that Hazel would want and who she deserves. And now? I gotta get right back to Punch. A lot of humans think shifters are all talk, and maybe some are I guess. But not werewolves, and certainly not the Flying Death. There will be no hiding what I am in a human jail, but I proudly display my ink. I more than want everyone to know they better not even dare fuck with me. The last thing I need is to let some human get under my skin and start a fight. A fight they’ll definitely lose with one punch. Then I’ll be in even more shit than I already am. The booking process was highly amusing since shifters don’t normally have ID like humans do. I told them I was Travis Dennison and that raised some eyebrows. Missile has all the credentials one should need since he’s got a real straight and narrow job and all. I don’t even have an actual driver’s license, never needed