DEN OF THE ALPHAS (Steamy Werebear Shifter BBW Menage Romance) by Willow Wilde Page A

won’t get bored and want to jet an hour or two into it?”
     
    Angela broke her gaze from the environment, flashing her a quick, reassuring smile. “Oh, I guarantee it.”
     
    *          *          *          *
     
    Two hours later, after we’d dropped off my stuff and dolled ourselves up a little, Jess and I followed Angela across the dance floor at Club Lunar. The place was incredibly classy – and Samantha was right, it did look familiar. It was catered a little too much for the partiers our age. We usually liked it pretty classy, but this was all retro electro-pump, whatever you even call it. The three of us passed through throngs of young club-goers, dancing to the bass of a house mix we had already heard twice in the last few days. Angela led us around the side of the bar against the back wall, around a long crowd of partiers ordering drinks.
     
    Sam and I shared a glance, then crossed behind the bar after she lifted the flap. Angela quickly but gently set it back down, leading us between the three bartenders as they rushed to mix drinks and take orders. They seemed completely unaware that we were there, and effortlessly glided quickly around us to do their work. She then took us through a door behind the bar, leading us down a dimly-lit flight of stairs.
     
    “The regulars have a side entrance,” she explained. “New blood have to take the front way in. Not much further.”
     
    Sam and I shared a shrug and followed down the stairs, coming to a stop at a large set of double doors. This place was like stepping out of a club and wandering down to the set of a Hostel movie. I started to wonder what we were getting ourselves into, and how well Samantha really knew our temporary hostess…who was abandoning us wherever we were going.
     
    But it was too late to turn back now.
     
    “Well, here we are, kids,” Angela smirked as she pushed half of the entrance open with her back. We crossed the doorway into…
     
    Well, it certainly wasn’t a club.
     
    The older, somewhat dingy bar looked pretty rough. There was no hint of the goings-on from upstairs here – no loud speakers blaring dubstep and house jams, no flashy lights soaring across the walls. In fact, we couldn’t even hear any of the music from up there, as loud as it was. The place looked like the inside of an old inn, maybe – wood everywhere, kind of dusty, with thick barrels lining the back wall and a bunch of stools at bar-tops or along the bar. There were older lights that kept the place mostly lit, but it was still a minor adjustment. Oddly enough, it seemed self-serve, as we saw shelves of liquor bottles behind the bar but no bartender in sight.
     
    We looked incredibly out of place here, and Sam’s shifting in her spot told me she thought the same too.
     
    But more important than all of that was the group that was spread about. I counted six burly, broad-shouldered men in leather jackets and jeans that were relaxing around. Three were playing cards at a table while two were caught in idle conversation and the last was nursing a drink alone at the bar.
     
    “What is this?” I quietly whispered. Although I had masked my question, all of the strangers jumped to alert. Six pairs of eyes fell on us, and the stranger sitting at the bar put out a cigarette in his ashtray and turned on his stool, stepping off to face us. His thick, brunette hair framed his chiseled, well-defined face, which was set in an intimidating but curiously attractive mold. I found myself drawn to his defined brow above his cold eyes.
     
    “Angela.” His arms rose, and a subtle flicker of a smile greeted her as she met his embrace. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
     
    “I’m afraid I can’t stay, Erick,” she answered with a quick peck on his cheek. “Just passing through. But these two,” they turned their attention to face us. “These two have been suffering a boring time, here in town. Since I knew your merry band was around