Page 62 of Ice King

Shouts occurred all around us, but most knew better than to get in our way. When Jack gained leverage, using his highly trained military skills to knock me on my ass, my wolf was out for blood.

He found it in splitting the man’s lip, the stench of copper filling the air. Another swing and I nailed his nose, breaking it and savoring the loud crack.

“Stop it, both of you.” The deep voice did nothing to curtail the rage or the need to exercise the steady flow of emotions.

One punch, two and another. Then I was down on my ass from a full-frontal assault with his boot connecting with my ribs. Anguish flashed through me and I was toppled backward. Another jab to my face and I tasted blood.

The crowd around us swelled, men trying to pull us apart, but even as hands grabbed my arms, both steadying and keeping me from taking another swing, I was determined to break free and did.

I had my hands wrapped around his throat, driving him back against the same tree while a primal roar escaped my lungs.

Forget the taste of blood as a powerful draw, I could see it in the periphery of my vision. For a few seconds, I was no longer in control.

My wolf was.

In that moment where all time seemed to slow to a distinct crawl, where I was no longer certain of either what I was doingor who I’d become, I faced the realization that not only could I kill my former friend.

But that I wanted to.

“You will not do this,” my father said very quietly in my ear. He wasn’t pulling on my arm or even demanding I stop. In his fatherly way, he was reminding me that I was first and foremost human and not a monster.

Certainly not like what Jack had implied.

There was no sound, no voices to encourage me one way or another. There was nothing but silence from the representatives of several wolf packs, men and women hoping they could escape the persecution of their carnal heritage.

And I’d forgotten who and what I was, if only for a blip in time.

Disgust rushed through me and I pulled away, hearing the dozens of sighs of relief. What the fuck was wrong with me? This wasn’t who I was, even if a huge part of me knew I’d stop at nothing to protect both Georgia from predators as well as keep her honor.

I walked into the woods and away from the building until I’d lost sight of prying eyes.

When I was finally at the river’s edge, I took a few breaths, only then realizing the physical pain I was in, let alone the mental anguish that never left. With one arm across my ribs, the act of breathing was even more agonizing.

“Your ribs are cracked.”

Hearing my father’s voice caused a heavy rise of tension. “Yeah, well, I guess I deserve it.”

He took a deep breath, joining me at the river’s edge. “I was exactly like you at your age. Full of piss and vinegar. Of course I’d never admit to that. At least not until your mother walked into my life. Did I ever tell you how we met?”

Even laughing was agonizing. “Only about a hundred times, Pops. Her car ran out of gas and you saved her. Love at first sight, married two months later.”

“Wow. You know how to take the passion out of everything, son.” His eyebrows were knitted together as he studied me. “That’s the basics, but there was so much more, including that I wanted nothing to do with a relationship. All I wanted to do was to play hockey. But your grandfather became ill and I was a mess, trying to do both while knowing it wasn’t possible. Your mother was the only bright spot I had. She reminded me that life was what you made it to be, not what you lost or what you expected.”

As the light breeze kept the stench of blood flowing into my nostrils, I tried to figure out what he was trying to tell me. “No offense, Pops, but are you trying to tell me I need to quit playing hockey? Or are you telling me you regret your decision?”

“I don’t regret anything. I did what was right for my family. Also, there was no way I could have played professional hockey. Someone would have discovered who and what I was and the risks were too high. But times are different now. I’m telling you that you can have anything you want as long as you remember who you are. Don’t fall prey to what humans insist on making us.”

“Why am I so angry? Beck said it’s because it’s time for me to mate. Am I supposed to go find some girl I think is the right wolf for me?”

“I was the same way around your mother.”

“Because she was your mate.”

“Exactly.” He turned to face me, his expression mostly unreadable, but it seemed as if he was amused. Nothing about this was funny. “Well, I might be wrong but I rarely am. I think you already found your mate.”

“Who are you talking about? I don’t even know a single female wolf other than in town and we all know the pickings are slim.”

My father was most expressive with his eyes. I’d been told I’d gotten the cunning attribute from him. Seeing them today, I noticed the very mischief Georgia had talked about when commenting on the single look that drove her the craziest about me.