Hailee's POV
"We are not hungry," they chorused in unison.
I lifted my brow, staring at the three of them. My sons. My stubborn little wolves.
Oscar's arms were folded across his chest, his green eyes blazing with anger. Oliver, usually the quiet one, pressed his lips together tight but refused to look at me. And Ozzy—my calmest—just sat there, his brown eyes steady, watching me like he was the oldest instead of the youngest.
"Not hungry?" I repeated slowly. "That's strange, because I heard your stomachs growling all the way from the kitchen."
None of them spoke. Their little jaws were locked, their bodies stiff, as if they had agreed on this before I even walked in.
I stepped closer, softening my tone. "Boys, you need to eat. You can't just—"
"No," Oscar snapped, cutting me off. His little chin lifted, stubborn like Nathan. "We said we're not eating."
Something twisted in my chest. "Oscar…"
