Page 3 of Vampire Pack

We skated in and shook hands with everyone on the other team—except the two sneering male werewolves who'd "accidentally" taken me down earlier. They'd been removed by their medical team, after being beaten past the stage of pulp, and were therefore unavailable.

The interviews came next, and I spent ten minutes fighting my boiling rage, which was directed solely at King. He blocked me from the interviewers. That pissed me off further, but it was for the best. I had nothing to say that should be recorded.

And finally, we hit the locker room.

I ditched my gear at its spot near the entrance, stripping down to my sweaty, long-sleeved compression shirt and a pair of drenched hockey leggings.

I preferred to play in less material, but King's consistent fury about any damage to my body made it better to just cover up.

My brunette bob was tied back in two tight french braids, which were also soaked with sweat. My heavily tattooed, light brown skin was in desperate need of lotion thanks to all my sweat and time on the ice, but that was the last thing on my mind.

Technically, I belonged in the women's locker room, but growing up as a werewolf who was constantly shifting back and forth made nudity a nonissue for me. So, I was in the men's with the rest of the guys, instead.

King had issues with that, but not issues that he lost his mind over the way he had earlier.

Knowing what was coming, our coaches congratulated us on a good game, and left.

Quickly.

They mostly left us to our own devices. Being immortal meant most of the team had been playing for a long fucking time.

A few of the guys went straight to the showers, exchanging grins on their way out. None of them were perturbed by what was about to occur.

The majority of the team went right to the ice baths, rehashing the game together.

The backup goalie saluted me, picked up his bag, and walked out of the locker room. He wasn't bothered by King's responding snarl to the salute.

Only three men remained with me, then.

Three vampires. The only three vampires in the entire national hockey league, actually. Hockey was notoriously difficult for vamps, who were much more particular about personal space than werewolves.

Professional sports in general were packed full of werewolves. Vampires were at the top of the business sector, and the fine arts were split pretty evenly between us. Outside of vampires and werewolves, the rest of our world was humans, and their lives were very separate from ours.

The media called my team's three vamps The Vampire Pack.

King, Hollis, and Jude.

I called them the Asshole Pack.

Hollis and Jude were only there to make sure no one else was around before King and I fought.

I barely noticed them, focused completely on him.

I was still burning with rage, and I would be, until I'd shifted to my wolf form and run it off or done something equally exhausting.

That was the shittiest thing about being a werewolf; our tempers were incredibly difficult to control.

I glared at King, and the mountain of a man stared back impassively. His slightly-narrowed eyes were the only giveaway as far as how he was feeling.

He should've intimidated me. The man was six and a half feet of muscle and power, wearing nothing but a pair of athletic shorts. I was tall for a woman, coming in at 5'10", but he still towered over me.

I just knew him too well to be intimidated.

King's brown hair was messy, some of the wild strands falling just over his eyes when he didn't shove the waves off his face.

Hollis's black hair was shaved on the sides, tapering up to wild corkscrew curls on the top of his head. He was only an inch or so shorter than King was, but he was slimmer. Less mountain-shaped. His skin was brown, and he was significantly more tattooed.

Jude had shaggy blond hair that seriously needed a cut, and that fucker had been grinning like a maniac since he and King nearly killed the two guys who had attacked me on the ice. He had light skin, way more tattoos than either of the other guys, and was the shortest of the three men at around 6'3". I'd heard them arguing about their heights once.