EMILY
I whistled slowly as I watched Cynthia make a sweater crochet. It was a bit distracting to see her in action, and I honestly liked it. At least, I wouldn’t have to keep thinking about Liam and his many women. Cynthia suddenly pricked her finger with the kneading pin.
“Hey, be careful!” I cried as I shot out of the chair I was in.
She sucked the offending finger into her lips, causing my frown to deepen. “You need to stop doing things like that. The wound would take longer time to heal.”
“I’m a werewolf,” she whined.
I placed a hand on my shoulder, waving my hand in front of my face. “I know exactly what you are, but please keep in mind that you’re an omega while you boast about being a werewolf,” I admonished.
Cynthia’s face tumbled downwards, and I felt sightly sorry for her
