“Bad luck?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, “Are you referring to me, Miss Valyne?” I shrugged, “If the shoe fits” I was done playing nice. He chuckled in a deep baritone, “if the shoe fits?” His voice went terribly low, “What shoe?” I glared at him, “Are you allergic to keeping quiet? Or you just can't read the room?” “Not when the allergy calls me a bad luck,” he shot back.“Sharp tongued idiot” I cursed under my breath.“I heard that.” I shut my eyes, damn Lycans and their good hearing, “it was a slip, I'm sure Mr Alistair wouldn't bully a poor woman for a mere slip of tongue.” He scoffed, “there's nothing poor about you.” “If it lets you sleep at night. Then you're free to believe what you want.” I couldn't help snarking. Damn mouth, he's your employer, even if he's arrogant, thinks the world revolves around him, an egoistic Lycan like the rest of his kind, control yourself. I screamed at myself. His lips curved into an amused smirk, “quite the funny little thing.” “Always
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