Abby
I’m in the kitchen organizing my thoughts, sketching out a mental roadmap for tonight’s three-course extravaganza as I mumble under my breath.
“Sauvignon Blanc with the salmon… Hmm… Maybe I should prepare cappuccinos with the torte for dessert…”
Just then, the door swings open, and in walks Karl, bags of groceries in hand. Gianna, his ever-present secretary, trails closely behind him.
My heart does a little dance at the sight of Karl, a knee-jerk reaction I’ve never been able to fully quell. Even with my wolf being asleep, the presence he creates when he walks into a room always makes her lurch in my mind, as though she can always sense him in her sleep.
In a way, it’s frustrating. I want to yell at my wolf for leaving me alone and then momentarily reappearing every time the ma
