Page 50 of It All Started with a Bite

“It’s the worst before your first shift,” Didi said, noting my discomfort. “Though I must admit, you’re handling it better than most natural werewolves.”

I thought back to the tense expressions I’d seen at the office that morning. Even Gavin had commented on how agitated the werewolves in Compliance had been.

“Speaking of handling things well,” the dragon newt said behind me, “how did the pack dinner go yesterday?”

I squinted at him in the rearview mirror.

“How do you know about the pack dinner?”

“Charlene tattled,” Didi said. “Hugh told her before he left the office yesterday.” She rolled her eyes at my indignant look. “You might as well make your peace with it. Nothing is sacred at Hawthorne & Associates.”

I pursed my lips.

The witch was right. I couldn’t spend the rest of my days being constantly surprised at what was considered normal behavior in the supernatural community, even if said behavior was wholly inappropriate in the human world.

My headache worsened as I relived the first half of last night’s dinner conversation. None of the Hawthornes could explain why I was adapting so quickly to being a werewolf or why I’d demonstrated abilities during my training with Samuel that should have been impossible for someone so newly turned.

Didi’s voice interrupted my troubled thoughts.

“Well?” the witch said with unabashed curiosity. “Howdidthe dinner go?”

“The food was great and no one died,” I said flatly.

Didi’s mouth pressed to a thin line. “We don’t want cryptic, Abby. We want details.”

“I got a whole chicken to myself,” Bo volunteered cheerfully from the back seat. “And Abby got drunk, although I’m not sure if it was the alcohol, Samuel’s pheromones, or the persistent questions about their mating habits.”

Gavin sucked in air, his expression one of shocked delight.

Didi smirked. “So the pack wants you and the alpha to do the dirty?—?”

“How about we not go there?” I interrupted coolly.

Heat crawled up my neck as I remembered the latter half of the dinner.

Having lulled me into a sense of false security, the pack members had turned merciless over dessert and coffee. I still wasn’t sure which had been worse: the questions about my prior relationships and sex life, their comments on Samuel’s stamina, or their bold ideas on the exact sleeping arrangements of their alpha and his new luna, including how many times we should mate a week.

Bar giving me tired looks that said they’d warned me about this, Samuel and Victoria had been of zero help.

As for the mate bond, it had practically sung a hallelujah every time Samuel had looked at me or his hand had brushed mine during dinner. His scent had nearly driven me to distraction, to the point I had drunk far more than I would normally have under the circumstances.

Since he hadn’t had anything to drink, Samuel had dropped me and Bo back home and had promised to get Ethel over to the office sometime today.

I had a dim memory of making a fool of myself in his car on the drive to Parkside. From the way Bo was smirking at me this morning, I suspected the memory was accurate.

Luckily, I hadn’t seen Samuel that morning to confirm this.

“I heard Pearl actually acknowledged your dog’s existence,” Didi said. “That’s practically a miracle in itself.”

“Who told you that?”

“Caroline. We’re friends.”

I scowled. So she really didn’t need the details about the dinner.

“Pearl’s not that bad once you get to know her,” Bo protested.

We stared at him.

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