“Florence, can you let go of my wife? You must be forgetting yourself. You’re just her private secretary, I’m her mate, not to mention the Alpha you're supposed to heed,” Lincoln exclaimed the moment he stepped into the living room, wearing only a clear shirt as if the cold was never a bother.
Florence raised her index finger at Lincoln, ready to engage in an argument she made certain to win. “Correction, Lincoln. Soon to be wife. You two are not married yet.”
“I know, but that doesn't give you the excuse of claiming my wife like she’s yours,” Lincoln stated and walked towards me but Florence shielded her body, making him gasp in exasperation, then glanced at Ian for help.
Ian shrugged carelessly without taking his eyes on the newspaper he was reading. “Oh, don't look at me. That woman
