The Abramov Mansion
Kirill stood by the window. It had been raining for the second day in a row. The weather was dreadful, yet at that very moment it had a calming effect on him.
He leaned back in the chair in his study and drank cognac. Not the best activity for the morning, but it was the only thing that helped him steady himself.
The door to the study swung open.
“You didn’t choose the best way to start your morning,” Max’s voice sounded from behind.
He walked over to the desk and dropped into the chair beside him. Kirill offered his brother a glass, but Max waved it off.
“What’s going on, Kir?”
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t look like a werewolf who’s recently found his mate.”
The Alpha sighed heavily and let his head fall back against the chair. Closing his eyes, he replied:
