“No self-respecting wolf would eat a rodent - though we might've been able to use your teeth as decorations," Andrew said with a straight face.Teijan hissed out a very unratlike snarl. "Why the hell do I bother to talk to you?""Hawke thinks I give you cheese." He pulled a small, foil-wrapped wedge out of his pocket. "Here you go""*** you" But the Rat alpha was laughing.”

“Go play your favorite game.”Feeling the hum of anticipation in his belly, Andrew gave his alpha an innocent smile. “I have no idea what you mean.”Hawke pointed a finger at him. “I want my calm, collected lieutenant back by the end of the week, or I’m packing you in a box and shipping you to fucking Siberia.”Andrew grinned. “I hear it’s nice there this time of year.”

“Hawke didn't bother to respond to that - he'd eat the baby cat alpha for breakfast.”

“Dorian’s going to love this.”She glared. “I swear to God, you tell him, and I’ll” — what the hell could you threaten an alpha with?—“I’ll tell Hawke you want to go on daily bonding runs with him.”

“She got to me.""It happens to the best of us.""Yeah? Who gets to you?" He was so strong that sometimes she worried. Everyone needed to bend a little, even a panther responsible for the lives of his entire pack."That damn wolf. He sent you a present last week."Sascha smiled at the thought of Hawke's flirting. The SnowDancer alpha did it only to jerk Lucas's chain. "I never saw any present. What was it?""How the hell should I know? I stomped on it and threw it into the deepest crevice I could find." He smirked. "Then I called him to ask how Sienna was doing."She burst out laughing. "Wicked, wicked man.”

“Ah baby, you know I do what I want.” Rubbing his chin on her hair, he squeezed her hip. “Man and wolf, we both adore you. No way am I letting you go after the hell you’ve put me through over the years.”

“I’ll get you another red dress.”She wiped the backs of her hands over her cheeks at the snarl. “You will?”He glared down at her. “Yes. But you must not cry. I won’t get you any dresses if you cry.”“I don’t normally cry.”“You will never do it.”“Well, I’m afraid I may sometimes,” she said apologetically. “Women need to cry.”Lines formed between his brows. “How many times in a year?”“Maybe five or six,” she said, thinking about it. “But really, it’s usually a very small cry and not in front of anyoneAt that, his scowl grew even darker. “I will permit you to cry four times a year. And you will do it when I am here.”