Chloe
I stood with my hands on my hips and wiped a stray hair out of my face as I surveyed my apartment’s kitchen and dining room, checking to make sure it would pass my dad’s scrutinizing inspection. It wouldn’t, because he was a drill sergeant with unrealistically high expectations, but I tried anyway.
Tonight was our weekly father-daughter dinner, and it was my turn to play hostess, while my dad would cook us dinner. And by cook, I meant he would order pizza or Chinese food and have it delivered to the academy, since the only food he could actually “cook” was cereal. With no milk.
I checked my watch and blew out a frustrated breath. He was running late, which was unusual for him. He had a background in the Royal Werewolf Army, and he was always, always punctual. So punctual, he was u
