Parker
Belladonna was wearing simple soft blue and white scrubs, as she’d walked into the packhouse, talking to a male wolf who was also wearing scrubs much the same as hers, though she had snowflakes all over her top and his was plain.
Parker could see that he liked Belladonna, he could hear the flirtatious note in the man’s tone, but he supposed that man could well be her boyfriend. The way she smiled and laughed at him as well; it was completely possible.
She smelled exactly the same to him, no other venom ran through her veins bar his own. And only his bite mark could be seen. There was no overlapping to it, to indicate a second bite. She smiled at him though addressed him formally. That irked him more than a little.
For the eight years they’d been together she’d called him Parker;
