That invite? Pure spite to needle me— she'd wheedled my digits from him special.
After I zinged her, Preston vowed payback, hauling me into his corner. Back then, I'd lapped it up: his doting cranked to eleven, must mean his heart tipped my way.
Now? Crystal clear.
All to make *me* green.
Madeline's paw clenched behind the cake stand, but she beamed blinding. "Thanks, Preston."
He grunted a flat "Mm." Words sparse as ever— tonight? Scarce on her.
Pack rolled up one by one, dumping gifts till the table groaned under a pile.
Life she'd never dreamed, back in the shadows.
But bliss? Not even close.
His stash filled her paws— now she hungered for the wolf himself.
Snagged him? Craved his soul too.
Gifts wrapped; lone holdout: me.
Preston prowled over to my wine-sipping perch. "Wher
