The smell of alcohol nearly overwhelmed me and I just barely managed to keep myself from coughing. Arthur sat at his desk, nursing a glass of whiskey. He watched me enter quietly.
I carefully walked toward him, not sure if any sudden movement would upset him. But he remained in his seat, just watching me. There was no hint of ire in his expression.
“Arthur, are you okay?” I whispered, knowing he would hear me. When I reached his desk, I stayed on the other side. If he did decide to come at me, I had room to defend myself.
“Are you worried about me, little wolf?” he asked, his words only slightly slurring.
“Of course I’m worried about you. Anyone would be,” I answer gently and he chuckles to himself, but not like he finds anything funny about what I said.
“Not everyone. My father w
