Leila
Nona stood at the top of the stairs, her shadow long and unyielding. Her cane tapped each step as she descended, a slow, deliberate beat. Her eyes, sharp as shattered glass, pinned Josephine. "Well?" she pressed.
Josephine stammered, cheeks blazing. "I—I didn't mean it like that, Nona."
Nona's lip curled. "Save your breath. You're a guest here. Act like it. And call me Grand-Mère, like all the Omegas do in my pack."
I sipped my coffee, the bitterness coating my tongue. Josephine squirmed, and I almost pitied her. Almost. Then I remembered her games, her sly little grabs at what was mine. No, she'd earned this and the look on her face was priceless.
Lucas strode in, tension rolling off him.
He looked surprised to see Josephine here, especially dressing up like that.
He frown
