“Well of course not.” Hugo scoffs, “You don’t need to convene a blue-ribbon committee to tell you this is all fucked six ways to Sunday.” “No, I mean, I feel like I’m missing something.” Sinclair replies drying. “There’s something bothering me and I just can’t put my finger on it.” “Well, you’ve

“I know.” I laugh, snatching up a distinctive puzzle piece belonging to my current focus area. “But I think I got us distracted. I was asking you about Lydia.” “Darling, when you have all day, diversions are a blessing, not a curse.” Henry advises warmly, patting the arms of his wheelchair. “The f

He drops his head to the crook of my neck, breathing in my scent and rumbling deep in his chest. “If I lose the campaign…” He begins slowly, his voice like gravel in my ear. “It will all depend on how fast the Prince moves, and where we are when it happens.” Sinclair doesn’t say any more, and I nud

Seriously? I demand. You brazen little – Hey, don’t slut shame me. She answers indignantly. There’s nothing wrong with knowing what you want and going after it. Excuse me, but do you actually know what you want? I silently scoff. One moment you’re provoking him and the next you’re writhing around

She whimpers in understanding, though she’s still beside herself. I climb back into bed, curling into a little ball and pulling the blankets over my head. I haven’t felt this way before, though Sinclair has certainly been angry with me in the past. Hey, I ask my wolf after some thought. Why weren’t