It was Sunday morning. The Grand-Kings sat in the kitchen, standard breakfast routine under way, the pups tore into their food, completely absorbed, while Faye kept half an eye on them.
Princess stared straight at her bowl, spooning up cereal without really tasting it.
"So, are you going to tell me why you came home looking like fried roasted chicken last night?"
Faye's voice broke the steady quiet room. She didn't look up right away, just kept watching the pups chew.
Princess paused, her spoon hovering an inch above the milk. She had crept through the front door way past midnight, shoes in hand, taking every step slow so the floor. She genuinely thought she'd dodged the interrogation for at least one morning.
"How did you know?" Princess muttered, eyes fixed on the floating flakes.
"I am a werewolf, and you are my mate," Faye said, turning her head to catch Princess's eye. "You marked me, remember? I know. Your pheromones were tampered with."
