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Summary
Hannibal had never wanted a pet, of any kind. They required too much attention, regular animals because of their helplessness, and hybrid Pets because of their need for social interaction. They’d been created to be needy things, bred to stroke the egos of their masters by demanding attention and offering it up in return. Hannibal hadn’t the patience for it.
So, when he woke on a Tuesday morning to the sound of a crash from the kitchen, without the accompanying scurry of fleeing footsteps, Hannibal knew to be on the alert.
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Bookmark Notes:
“No,” Hannibal repeated, pulling himself to his feet, until Will had no choice but to drop from his lap and support his own weight. “Will. I will not be the latest in a long line of monsters beneath your bed.”
Will watched him with narrowed eyes, his chest rising and falling with the quick breaths of outrage. “No,” Will agreed, “instead, you will be the latest in a long line of men who make my decisions for me.”