*Jonathan James’ POV*
We sat around the dining room table, our plates were collected, our glasses refilled, and still no sign of my daughter, who was supposed to join us for the meal. It was a special occasion for her cousin, as we had officially accepted her into our pack. With a sigh, I lowered my head into my hands, wanting the torture to be over, wishing that we could all carry on with the day’s events. Why does she choose to make it so easy for my wife to be angry with her? Why can’t she just do what we expected of her and get it over with? No, my Miranda had a flare for the dramatics.
“Where is that disrespectful daughter of yours, Jonathan?” my beautiful wife asked me, a scorn on her perfectly done face. She was a force to be reckoned with, but I loved her very much. I had learnt
