“What’s wrong with Jacks?” I ask, a little frantic, turning to look her in the face.
“See?” mom says, sitting up with a grin and pointing her finger at me, poking me in the chest. “The fact that you keep assuming something is wrong with him tells me that you know something is up too.”
“That’s not a ridiculous assumption to make when someone says they want to talk about someone, mom,” I say, glaring at her a little and slumping back against the pillows, taking the last sip of my coffee and putting the cup on my bedstand.
“I know, but you did it at breakfast when he wasn’t there, too. He’s a big, powerful Alpha, Ariel – why do you assume he can’t take care of himself?”
I sigh, pressing my hands together and screwing my mouth to the side as I consider my mom, who is so pretty, and consid
