“Why is it that I so often find myself cleaning up your messes?” Holden asked as he entered the room, his tone uninterested at best.
Tomas scoffed without bothering to look at the man that had slithered into his office. Instead, he sipped on his drink and leaned back in his chair.
“Clean up my messes?” Tomas asked. “What about the ones you make?”
“Me?” Holden asked, putting both hands to his chest with mock offense. “I clean up my own messes.”
“Oh?” Tomas replied with a laugh. Taking another sip. “Is that what you did? Whiteridge, Shadowcrest… that was more than two hundred wolves we lost.”
“It’s hardly the first time we have removed a problem that way.”
Tomas growled.
“I didn’t agree to Hallowed or Lone Rock,” he snarled. “You did that shit on your own!”
“As always, I did what was necessary.”
Tomas laid back in his chair, tossing back the rest of his glass.
“Eclipsed, however,” Holden continued. “Was not necessary. In fact, we wanted them. You knew that.”
