Page 15 of Ice Wolf
“Oh, for God’s sake. I almost shifted into something it’s obvious people are terrified of and I need to find a mate, but that might be like looking for a needle in a haystack.”
“Something like that.”
“Great. Maybe I’ll just have sex more often.”
“The phase could pass.”
“And what if it doesn’t?”
As he’d done before, he took his time answering. That drove me bat shit crazy about the man. “Then I’m afraid other methods will need to be taken.”
“Other methods?”
“Yes. An intervention. Humans live in a fragile state. We can’t allow them to know their next-door neighbors and buddies they work out with are wolves or bears. God forbid the PTA moms find out their bestie they drink Manhattans with every Friday is a leopard. And heaven help us if anyone knew the real identity of the mayor of our lovely city.”
“A lion.”
He nodded. “What I’m saying is do everything you can to dispel the rumor. It will go away. However, trust your natural instinct, Saint. If you find the woman meant to be your mate, by all means don’t allow your human side to take control.”
“So what am I supposed to do if and when I find her?”
His grin was sly. “You claim her as your own.”
CHAPTER 5
Lily
My father expected perfection.
In everything.
That’s why anytime I went to my parents’ house or met one or the other for shopping or a meal, I was usually overdressed. Not today. Today I wanted to be comfortable. I deserved it after everything I’d been through.
Wearing jeans, a favorite albeit old tee shirt, and my beloved knee-high boots, I strolled into the quaint Italian restaurant that had been a mainstay in our family for years. My father used to bring me here after piano recitals or when I’d achieved a perfect period-ending report card at school.
That’s why I knew whatever he had to say meant something to him. And quite possibly might add an unwanted detour in my life. At least I was confident I could stave off or compartmentalize whatever he had to tell me. Today, I felt like a warrior capable of handling anything.
Even if in checking my bank account over coffee I was reminded of how dire the situation would soon become.
“Punkin. You look… different,” he said politely as he rose to his feet, kissing me on the cheek.
“I’m cleaning today,” I told him on a whim. The reason for my attire sounded plausible. As I sat down, I studied the interior of the restaurant. The owners kept homage to the famous people who’d dined in the establishment over the years. My father included.
“Ah, I see. Nothing like chasing away the cobwebs before starting a new life.”
Uh-oh. Here we went.
Suddenly, a waiter appeared highlighting whatever bottle of wine my father had selected. After he gave the obligatory nod, the young man proceeded to put on a show. I was only vaguely amused. My father had a smug look on his face, another telltale sign he had a speech prepared.
Good for him.
I’d only be half listening.
The last thing I needed was being chastised for my choice in professions.
Once the wine was served, he waited until I took a decent sip, studying me intently as he always did. The calm before the storm.
With the ceremonial gesture complete, I looked him straight in the eyes and leaned forward. “Spill it, Dad.”
