Honey didn’t need their approval. She raised her chin, looked at me—because Adam’s call had as much to do with me as it did with the pack. She’d resented it when I had refused to leave the traditional relegation of women alone. She’d liked that being married to Peter meant she was low-ranking. She gave first me, then Warren, for whom she’d always had a soft spot, a savage smile. “Yes, boss,” she said.
