![]() ![]() Images-of the night sky, of running-leapt from her mind to mine through our pack-bond, as natural as words falling off lips. Maddy was sitting perfectly still, blinking her gray eyes owlishly, a soft smile on her lips. In control of the impulse to leap out of my chair and run for the woods, I glanced across the table at the last member of our little quartet. ![]() To my left, Lake, whose history with Devon’s flare for the dramatic stretched back almost as far as mine did, rolled her eyes, but her lips parted in a grin every bit as irrepressible and lupine as Devon’s.Ī wave of energy-pure, undiluted, and animalistic-vibrated through my own body, and I closed my eyes for one second …two. ![]() ![]() The smile on Devon’s face widened, making him look-to my eyes, at least-more puppy than wolf. “It’s Thanksgiving break, Dev, not summer vacation, and technically, it hasn’t even started yet.” “Everyone sing along!”Īs the leader of our little group-not to mention the alpha of Devon’s pack and his best friend since kindergarten-the responsibility for shutting down his boy-band tendencies fell to me. Leaning back in his chair with casual grace, he shot a mischievous look around our lunch table. “NO MORE SCHOOL, NO MORE BOOKS, NO MORE teachers’ dirty looks …”įor a two-hundred-twenty-pound werewolf, Devon Macalister had a wicked falsetto. ![]()
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