Sawyer was at the breakfast table bright and early the next day. He still looked a bit pale, hands jittered around a lot, but otherwise, he was fine. Christine, on the other hand, hadn't come out as unscathed. She would be coming to work from now on after seeing her therapist first. Secondly, she refuses to go to the park with us ever again. Like the attack had been our fault in the first place.
"Good morning, little brother," I crooned and scooted into a seat close to the head of the table.
Sawyer beamed at me from across the table, yet there was a slight crack in his facade. "Wolf not fully back yet?" I asked him softly.
His eyes widened then narrowed in on me. "I'll be fine, Sutton. Can we rather talk about how you f****d up an entire dozen of hunters mostly on your own? Where is my
