"Shocked, Raven flung back her head to listen more intently. "The wolves are talking to you! How do I know that, Mikhail? How could I possibly know such a thing?" He ruffled her hair lightly, affectionately. "You hang out with the wrong crowd." He was rewarded with a bubble of laughter. It tugged at his heart, left him open and vulnerable. "What is this?" she teased. "Lord of the manor picks up seventies slang?" He grinned at her boyishly, mischievously. "Maybe I am the one hanging out with the wrong crowd." "And maybe there's hope for you yet." She kissed his throat, his chin, the stubborn line of his blue-shadowed jaw."