It was a rainy Thursday. The mood inside the daycare was heavier than a wet wool blanket.
Lord Rurik stood at the kitchen counter, holding a tiny, delicate teacup that looked ridiculous in his scarred hands. He was glaring at it as if it had offended his ancestors.
General Rajah was sitting on the floor, letting Arjun use his tail as a jump rope. The Tiger Lord looked exhausted.
Archduke Cassian was pacing near the window, his golden eyes scanning the horizon, looking for a signal that never came.
Duke Lucien was in the corner, blending into the shadows, but the shadows were twitching nervously.
And the cubs? They were a mess.
Vali was pacing (copying Cassian).
Jasper was re-calculating the odds of survival for the 100th time.
Clover was curled up in a ball on the rug, clutching her safety rock so tight her knuckles were white.
Suddenly, a sound cut through the gloom.
Gurgle. Hiss.
