So, it was somewhere around 2 am in the morning, and I was currently playing tug-of-war with two adorable big cubs, because they refused to call it a night.
And by adorable, I don't mean they looked like cutie cats; they were too overgrown for that. They were just so adorable in the sense that they were arguing over me, and I didn't even care.
In the end, the question that will come out of this is: Who gets the cake?
The tension in the kitchen was already sharp with both heirs having a glaring contest.
Caelum's grip on my left arm was firm, possessive—a stark contrast to the way he had looked at me with disgust only yesterday.
Julian's grip on my right was desperate, his golden eyes wide with a mix of betrayal and a hunger that hadn't been satisfied since the carriage.
I was sure I had done him until he passed out, but I guess he was still hungry for more.
This is why you shouldn't overfeed your pets.
