“That boy will drive me into an early grave,” Alpha Skuzinlly Paul muttered, his eyes squinting in worry as his fingers spread to grip his cheek bone.

The storm outside the mansion rattled the glass like a warning.

Inside, Paul stood by the window, the gold embroidery on his coat shinning brilliantly beneath the lighted room. His ornamental cane struck the marble in quick, impatient bursts.

“Don’t say that, Paul.” Enconola closed the distance between them, her hand sliding to his ...