I don't get a chance to respond. Sage's face alters suddenly, mouth open as he pounces on me and wrenches the food containers from my hand. He sinks to the floor, stuffing sausage and bread into his mouth while I push away from the door and cross my arms over my chest, ignoring the snuffling, grunting sounds from my love as I glare at the pair seated on the bed.
"Don't be angry," Maks says, hands up, distressed. He looks almost comical, his handsome, broad face scrunched like a boy who knows he's done wrong. "Please, Charlotte. We're here to help."
Isabelle nods, rising, leaving the hulking form of her dark-haired boyfriend to come to my side and hug me. I relent, hugging her back, breathing in the hints of rose and oil I always scent from her, mentally kicking myself. The aroma I caught
