Once Nicholas was done, he paused, his hands on his hips. Nonchalantly he glanced around the area, watching Hunter’s wolves working. Jonas could see the werewolves were sweating. Many of them had not bothered to wear jackets, which wasn’t surprising since they tended to run hot, and had tugged off their shirts even.
Frowning, Nicholas raised a hand. As Jonas watched, blue sparks rose from Nicholas’s hand. They swirled, gaining in strength. A few wolves stopped what they were doing, their gazes on the man with magic sparking from his fingers. Jonas saw the wolves’ unease.
Power rose, silent and cold, whirling out from Nicholas. A breeze swept the area where the wolves worked—and only that area—bring cool relief. No one moved, then finally a wolf whistle softly. Another shut his mouth with a snap then nudged the guy next to him. Someone applauded quietly.
Waves of energy danced around Nicholas, teasing the loose white stands of hair around his face, lifting them. His braid danced in the air, fluttering around him.
Holy goddess, Jonas was uncomfortable too, but not for the reason the wolves were. The man was sexy as hell. He flipped switches Jonas didn’t even know he had. He shifted uncomfortably as his jeans tightened. Half hard, his cock pressed against his zipper.
