Beep. Beep. Beep.
[MATE WITH ALL FOUR OF YOUR HUSBANDS OR DIE WITHIN 7 DAYS]
The voice rang inside my skull, cold and mechanical. I blinked at nothing. Either Pauline's tequila had finally melted my brain, or something much worse had happened.
A thick, rotten smell slammed into me — stagnant water and overripe greenery. I was no longer in the bar. Towering deciduous trees formed a living barricade around me. Buzzing drew my eyes upward. A massive, rotting hive clung to the trunk above, its comb riddled with holes. Thick, sticky brown liquid dripped onto the wet ground.
I was on my hands and knees in the mud.
Pushing myself up, my body felt terrifyingly light, like the wind could knock me over. That's when I saw him.
Seven feet of corded muscle and scaled skin that caught the dappled light like shattered glass. Amber eyes locked onto me with predatory focus. A lizard. A massive, humanoid lizard built like a damn tank.
"Oh hell no," I muttered. "This dream can get weirder?"
I ran.
My legs were useless, wobbling like wet paper, but adrenaline carried me maybe thirty frantic steps before the world tilted. The ground rushed up—
"You need to mate to restore energy," the voice said calmly, as if commenting on the weather.
"I need to what—"
Everything went black.
The bed was far too soft. I sank into it like it wanted to swallow me whole. The air carried a strange, pleasant fishy scent mixed with something muskier I couldn't name. I cracked my eyes open.
Gold ceiling. A massive crystal chandelier. Marble walls. Heavy velvet drapes. The bed was so enormous I could have fit my entire Cincinnati apartment on it.
I sat up too fast. The hangover from Pauline's terrible life choices roared back with a vengeance.
"What the actual fu—"
Beep.
[TRANSMIGRATION TO THE BEAST WORLD COMPLETE. HOST BODY STABILIZED. ENERGY LEVELS CRITICAL. MATING REQUIRED.]
"Mating," I said aloud, voice cracking. "You said mating."
[Confirmed. Four mates assigned. Bonding must begin within 48 hours or energy depletion will accelerate.]
"Four."
[Four.]
I was a barista. I made oat milk lattes and babysat other people's kids. The most dramatic thing in my life was doing karaoke last Thursday. I was not equipped for this.
A heavy knock sounded on the door.
I froze.
The door was carved marble, absurdly ornate. I glanced down — I was wearing a sheer white negligee that definitely wasn't mine. I never even liked negligees.
"Absolutely not," I whispered.
The knock came again, more insistent.
Heart hammering, I slid off the bed and tiptoed over. Rising on my toes, I peered through the viewing hole. All I caught was a tanned neck and a strong jaw framed by blue hair.
I opened the door anyway.
The man who stepped inside had to duck slightly. Tall, broad, and radiating raw power. His pale blue eyes — almost white — pinned me in place. A lazy smirk tugged at his lips, like he already knew exactly how I'd react.
"You insatiable little kitten," he purred, voice a low baritone that did unfair things to my stomach. "The others are on their way."
"The others?" My voice came out squeakier than I wanted.
"Your mates." He tilted his head, amused. "Ramses, Zayne who you sometimes call Zach and Alexis. You weren't confused last night."
"Last night," I repeated slowly, "I was in a bar in Cincinnati."
The smirk deepened.
"You were right here on this bed. And you seemed to enjoy it when I put my mouth on you…"