Ansel groaned. The groan turned into a coughing fit.
He was propped up in his office chair, already miserable, when Henry delivered the news that half of the pack’s children were now expected to arrive tomorrow for Karin’s dance class.
Ansel’s breathing was still ragged, even without a coughing jag. It took him a minute to speak again.
“Obviously, we have to call this off,” Ansel said, his voice hoarse.
“The gamma I spoke with said the news is all over the pack, and there’s a great deal of excitement that the children are being invited to tour your manor - “
“Tour the manor,” Ansel shouted.
Henry nodded.
“Did she promise them ice cream, too? College scholarships?” Ansel threw his head back. “I’m going to kill her.”
“Look, I don’t know what was
