I come to the Porkwell offices ready to bite heads off—not mount them.
Specifically, I plan to threaten the smug pig bastard who’s bulldozing Wolfstone Preserve, destroy his proposal, and maybe claw a few throats while I’m at it. I’m a proud wolf-shifter, an environmental activist, and totally in control of my heat cycle.
Until I’m not.
One ill-timed hormonal flare-up, one smug tusked menace in a suit, and suddenly I’m flat on my back moaning Percy Porkwell’s name.
Now I’m entangled with three very hot, very complicated pigs:
Percy: The golden boy architect who knows exactly how to use that tusked mouth
Prescott: The awkward genius who’s been stalking me (politely… but still)
Hamilton: The ruthless, cocky CEO with pigheaded shadow-daddy energy who wants revenge—and to ruin me in every possible way
I hate them all.
I want them all.
And the forest isn’t the only thing at risk of being claimed.
