78: IN THE COMPANY OF WOLVES

“Uh, sorry to interrupt your display of authority, oh mighty one-eyed alpha, but you see that look on my sister’s face? It means she’s either gonna throw a mean comment or her fists.”

Luke Ravenstone raises a singular, dark, military straight eyebrow. His gaze travels to my fists, and sure enough, he finds them clenched. A mild threat, although I’m pretty sure there’s nothing in the world this man can feel threatened about. His eye darts behind me, straight to Wilma, still snuggled in the bed.

“She doesn’t like being told what to do.” My sister adds, and I almost crack a smile.

Luke tugs at the glove on his right hand; the only tell-tale sign of discomfort I can decipher from him. “And I don’t like being disobeyed.” He counters, his frown deepening although I can tell that his annoyance is being replaced by something else; curiosity.

Maybe even amusement.

“Ha! You should tell that to your tie.” Wilma says, and from my peripheral vision, I see her point to it. “It’s crooked.”

It’s not.