He nods.
“Kind of.But less loup-garou and more full on Wolf shifting Werewolves.”
“And those kids?”
“They're Werewolves.”
“The golden retriever puppies?”
“Just puppies.”
“Their dad?”
“Werewolf—the Alpha of our Pack, actually.”
“Their mom?”
“Human.”
“The giant mansion?”
“That’s Maccon Manor—our Pack house.”
I point dramatically.
“Aha!”
He blinks.
“What?”
“You admitted it.”
“Admitted what?”
“You're in a cult!”
His face goes completely blank.
“A cult?”
“Well, yeah.”
He rubs both hands over his face.
“We're not a cult.”
“That is exactly what someone in a cult would say.”
He actually groans.
“Shit, I guess I walked right into that one.”
“You really did.And no, I will not be drinking any of yourKool Aid.”
I’m only half-joking.
Silence settles between us.
