Sam knew she had lost Raven’s attention when the girl’s eyes shifted from hers to something over Sam’s shoulder, and then glazed over. A beat passed, and the music literally changed.
Heat bored into the back of Sam’s neck. She felt it move through her body, inching its way into every nerve ending before flooding her veins with something somewhere between anticipation and fear.
Slowly she turned, and the world held still for her. One step, two. Until she stood facing the doorway across the vast, noisy room, nothing between her and the exit but Jack Colton. He was a dark shadow against the night, no small feat but one he accomplished with frightening ease. His suit was expertly, precisely tailored, black and expensive, and it hugged every intended curve of his six-foot-five frame. The collar of his black shirt, crisp and sharp, brushed the dark blonde curls he almost never bothered to cut and set off the equally sharp black image of his leather eye patch. One ice blue eye lit up the shadows, stark and unavoidable.
“Holy hell, sister. That is one beautiful, scary, beautiful man,” whispered Raven beside her.
“He can hear you,” Sam whispered back.
Across the room, Jack Colton smiled. And it was a beautiful, scary, beautiful smile.
-The Shifter King, by Heather Killough-Walden