He glanced around the room at Rhys’s staff and sighed. Myka sat at the head of the table waiting on his answer. How he ended up in these situations was beyond him. He was a warrior, born and built to fight. Politics annoyed him. He didn’t want to have to solve pack problems or deal with internal issues, and somehow that was exactly the position he’d been thrust into. He met Myka’s gaze. “Tell me again where Rhys is at?”Myka scoffed. “I wish I knew. He and Fre disappeared last night.”“This is not cool. Why can’t you handle it?”“You’re next in line, Kuma. Dad is on vacation and by rights, as the oldest, you should be Alpha, but since you declined that duty…Look here’s what it boils down to. I ain’t talking to the Council.” Myka pushed the conference call apparatus toward Boris.“You are such a punk.” Boris leaned back in his chair.“Your momma.”“She would be disappointed in you.”“Make the fucking call Boris.” Myka growled.He narrowed his eyes at Myka and tapped the phone button, stabbing the numbers.
