Maisie
Dinner was something of a banquet, but it was the tensest I'd ever been to. And considering how tense dinner with the Lycan Queen had been, this was record breaking.
More than half of the table hated us and didn't bother trying to hide it. I thought the only reason they weren't reaching across to stab us was because they feared their queen.
The other half ogled us like we were dinner, the males shameless in their perusal of me and my body, and the females batting pretty lashes at my mates, like they wanted pieces out of them.
The red head across the table—Trinity?—was currently running her toes up and down what she thought to be Jericho's foot, staring at him from under long, hooded lashes, biting her bottom lip softly in a 'come hither' look that should've looked silly, but was infuriatingly attractive on her.
And I wondered if she knew it was my leg she was rubbing on.
Quinlan was laughing quietly beside me behind a glass of wine.
