Alisa
Derrick pushes me into his office. “Sit,” he orders and slides in behind his desk.
The table, a massive antique oak desk, dwarfs under his sheer size. I perch on a chair against the wall, folding my hands on my lap and staring at my filthy feet.
“Did you-” I start.
“Do not speak,” Derrick interrupts and opens a drawer. He pulls a folder out and throws it at me. I deftly catch it, and open it. All I see are rows upon rows of numbers. “That is our monthly expenses. You will go through it, learn it, understand it. If you have questions you may ask.”
“Why?”
“Because you are the Luna now. It’s a job, not just a title. Traditionally, Lunas are in charge of the household and keeps track of pack expenses.”
“I thought I’m the queen,” I respond cheekily, knowing that I’m just flicking t
