“Do you think Calypso will try to collect on the debt we owe her?”
It’s the end of the longest day of my life, and Dean and I are nestled into the penthouse suite of the skyrise that the Miami Pack owns the top ten floors of. (I don’t even want to know how all these wolves got so rich.) We tried to object that it was too much, but Camilo and his mate-s***h-Beta, Daniela, insisted.
“I doubt it,” Dean replies. “She may not have downright tricked us, but she knew what was going to happen to us, and she didn’t warn us. I think she knows that if she dared to show her face around us again, we’d make her pay.”
“Your mother did warn you,” I point out. “Though I don’t think even she knew the extent of it.”
He nods. “It’s a shame. I’m sure Calypso has some, witchy reason for it all, but from whe
