I couldn't help but laugh as three fluffy kittens tumbled over each other in our dining room, their playful antics a delightful distraction from the frigid winter day. These little creatures had appeared at our doorstep last week—hungry, cold, and desperate for shelter. Despite Alaric's initial protests about keeping pets in the dining room, he was now their favorite human.
"Traitors," I murmured, watching as the tabby kitten abandoned my outstretched fingers to scamper toward the door where my husband had just appeared. The kitten wound itself around Alaric's boot, purring loudly.
Alaric raised an eyebrow at me before reaching down to scratch the kitten's ears. "They simply recognize superiority when they see it."
"Is that what you call it?" I teased, gathering the other two kittens into my lap. "I call it bribery with those fish scraps you've been sneaking them."
"Slander," he replied, but his eyes crinkled with amusement.
