Regan POV
Gnash sits patiently between my feet, staring at his bowl in my lap. Grabbing my knife off the coffee table, I slice my palm, fisting it and letting my blood drain into the bowl. Gnash licks his lips and I run my tongue over my palm, healing it with my saliva. Patting his head, I set the bowl down and he instantly drops his head into the bowl, licking it up.
Leaning back in my chair, I watch him for a second. Relief at having him back settles within me. I could hardly sleep last night without him hogging the bed and crushing my legs. Or his constant whining for pats and affection. He annoys the crap out of me but he is my oldest friend. Gnash sits back when he is finished and I pat the couch when my door suddenly bursts open.
Growling, I turn my head to see my brothers stroll
