Page 59 of Ice Devil

This time, there was no way of preventing her win.

With my body shaking, I gritted my teeth to hold back my natural tendencies, but neither the growl nor the subsequent howl could be stopped.

Just as I filled her with my seed.

* * *

Sloane

“The Shadow Dancers Pack, huh?” I’d read a few of the articles, the reporters acting as if Beck’s father was dying. From what he’d said, his father was up and about, mischievous as could be.

Beck rubbed his face. “Yeah. According to our grandfather, that’s what we were called. But not for decades.”

“Then why bring it up?”

“That’s a damn good question. Why? To remind people we were wolves in a different way?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Just like trying to make it seem as if our father was dying.”

I’d thought about that. “Odds makers had a field day with the news. They pure out a dire story followed by you and Ford not showing at a couple games.”

“People would be that shitty?”

Now I laughed, although the sound was hollow. “Are you kidding me?”

“Fucking bastards.”

Yeah, they were. I also wondered if the enflaming storylines were connected in any way to the warning I’d received with the photograph. Just something to keep in the back of my mind.

“What’s it like being a shifter?”

Beck’s eyebrows immediately furrowed together when he sat down beside me. Of course, he was still naked while I’d done the sensible thing and grabbed a tee shirt so I would no longer flash my buck-naked body to the South Beach partiers.

Not that I’d minded an hour before.

He placed a drink down on the table beside me then decided to torment me by brushing a single fingertip down my arm.

You bet I shuddered, but offered a heated look that should remind him of his most hated teacher in high school.

“I’m working,” I told him. What I was actually trying to do was to tell him that my boss was a jerk without saying the actual words.

“Why won’t you come work sitting on my lap?” He even reached for me, but I slapped his hand away. Damn if his eyes were twinkling in the near darkness.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” When I shifted on my seat, a series of shivers almost made me lose my resolve.

His frown was exaggerated, a boy about to throw a tantrum. “Is that a serious question?”

I sat back in my seat, even folding my legs on the chair. “It is. My boss is furious that I didn’t speak to the fact you and your brother are shifters. I’m enraged with him. So angry I just… Oh!” I fisted my hand, shaking it. “I honestly want to kick his ass.”

Why was he smiling? Did he not understand what I was saying?

“You go, girl.”

“It’s not funny. I’m sick to death of seeing the hatemongers out there. How long have shifters been out in the open? Ten years?”

“Almost four,” he corrected. “There were suspicions before that, sightings.”