Maisie
There was an odd hostility in the kitchen this morning between the Lycans.
I watched as Violette perked cheerfully about Quinlan taking me to see the city today before our inevitable flight back to court tomorrow—I wasn't looking forward to that bit—and Quinlan only let out a sour grumble, poking sullenly at his bowl.
Jericho, though, seemed to be in the best mood, pushing a plate of expertly sliced meat in my direction. "Here. Have some more."
My memories from last night were a little murky, but I remembered enough to flush a bright red when he kissed my cheek.
Mercer was staring hard. Glaring, really, and I had no idea what the pissing contest was about, but the testosterone in the air was a bit too much for me.
