Page 87 of Ice King

But I remained on edge.

Seeing what I thought was someone running through the trees, I took off running, pushing my way through the dense foliage. As I did, the hunger my wolf always felt when chasing prey kicked in and I ran a little faster. A little harder.

The hunger burned deep within, a series of gnawing sensations that enticed my wolf while pushing my mind into longing to shift. Not now. Not here.

When I finally broke free of a thick patch of trees, stopping short, a moment of disgust rolled through me. A doe and her fawn. The were both drinking water in the stream, the doe lifting and turning her head toward me. She knew I was a wolf, her scent of fear tickling my nostrils. Yet she was also aware while in human form I couldn’t hurt her.

Crouching down, I clasped my hands together as if in some small way I could reassure her that I wasn’t interested in feasting on her fawn. She studied me for a full two minutes before nudgingher fawn. The baby had yet to learn about predators. But she would soon enough.

The hunters were getting closer. Not only had I watched the news that morning on the shifter found slaughtered in the mountains, but I could also feel the shift in the air around the town.

As if the bastards were trying to cage us in.

With Georgia still on my mind, I hung my head, trying to figure out what I’d say to her. That was if she’d even see me after the way I’d treated her. Damn it. I could be such an asshole. Somehow, I’d think of something. Just before I started to stand, something caught my attention just as the rain began to fall.

The minimal afternoon light still managed to catch sight of something metallic. I kept my eye on the spot on the ground as I moved closer. When I had it in my fingers, my stomach tightened into knots.

A shell casing from a 9mm Glock. You didn’t grow up in the Pacific Northwest without knowing your weapons.

I rolled it between my fingers. No hunter of deer or elk used a handgun that I knew of.

But the hunters preying on shifters did.

While one shell casing wasn’t full confirmation, my instincts told me otherwise. It would appear someone might have the Kendrick family in their scope.

Maybe it was time they learned the damage a pissed-off wolf could do.

* * *

I’d mentally made the comment to myself before and would happily do so vocally to anyone who’d care to listen. I wasn’t a romantic guy. Forget the flowers and candy. Maybe I’d gift a woman a cool truck or a motorcycle, but anything else and I was clueless.

That had to be the reason why by the time I pulled into the parking lot of the Velvet Roast, my palms were sweating. The rain was coming down hard, pelting against the windshield, the deluge significant enough water had already pooled across several streets.

The windshield wipers were slashing across the glass, the hard thump, thump, thump matching almost perfectly the rapid beating of my heart. Georgia had managed in only a few days barging into my life to do just that. How many times had I envisioned her smile or the way her mouth twisted in frustration when forced to deal with the crap I tossed out as if she should consider it privileged?

Enough that I’d memorized every soft curve, the way her nose wrinkled from time to time. Even the way the tip of her tongue darted across her bottom lip when she was just about ready to spew off the perfect comeback line.

Was she my mate as my father had claimed? As I flexed my arm again, the answer was crystal clear, even if everything else in my life had muddled the hell out of it. I had no idea what to do with the information from here. She wasn’t going to budge on how she felt about me.

I knew the hours of the shop. It was just about to close. At this point, I could leave and that would be the end of trying to bring back what we’d had. Oh, hell, I knew better than that. Cutting the engine, I debated another minute before climbing out and jogging toward the store. By the time I reached the door, I was soaked.

But I just didn’t care.

The tiny bell announced my arrival and there was no one else in the shop. While there was also no one else behind the counter, I sensed her presence as well as a hint of her perfume.

Damn it if my mouth wasn’t watering.

“I’m sorry but I’m just getting ready to close.” Georgia popped out from the back while talking, stopping short just before bumping into the edge of the counter.

There was something extremely unique, even mind-blowing about the way we reacted to each other.

A long, hard stare followed by our eyes traveling to the floor.

A wild skip of our breath before turning into a more labored rhythm.

A desire that transcended the annoyance one or both of us had felt almost every time.

Finally, at least with her, she’d almost always found a way of becoming amused, the light in her eyes reflecting the fire burning brightly in her soul.