A blaze roared up from my gut's blackest pit.
One blink, and it was inferno— so that bellow erupted volcanic. "What the hell are you doing!"
Warren cracked an eye, and bam— next instant, he whipped the covers over me like a shield.
As if *he* was the outsider crashing the party.
Preston's mug went thunder-dark; he charged over. "Five seconds. Off my bed."
Warren arched a brow, lounging like he owned the joint, eyeing his old pack alpha.
He nodded cocky at the paw on his hip, drawled easy, "Might not fly— Crystal's not caught her Z's yet."
My voice, thick with sleep, cut in. "Preston? What're you doing here?"
Clocked Warren bare as the day, I scowled. "Out."
Preston's eyes blackened deeper, grinding teeth. "Who the hell you telling? You even know who *you* are?"
"I'm saying, get o
