" He started to look at me, but his eyes ran into trouble as they hit Honey and refused to move off of her. It was not an uncommon reaction. One more reason to hate Honey—not that I needed another one.
“Honey, this is Tom Black, a reporter who wants the skinny on what it’s like to date Adam Hauptman, prince of the werewolves.” I said it to get a rise out of her, but Honey disappointed me.
“Mr. Black,” she said, coolly extending her hand.
He shook her hand, still staring at her, and then seemed to recover. He cleared his throat. “Prince of the Werewolves? Is he?”
“She can’t talk to you, Mr. Black,” Honey told him, though she glanced at me to make it clear that the words were directed at me. If she weren’t more careful, she’d find herself outed as a werewolf. If she weren’t dumber than a stump, she’d have known I don’t take orders. Not from Bran, not from Adam or Samuel—certainly not from Honey.
“No one ever told me not to talk to reporters,” I said truthfully. Everyone just assumed I’d be smart enough not to. I was so busy tormenting Honey that I ignored what the implicit promise in my statement would do to the reporter.
“I will make it worth your while,” Black said in a classic assumption close worthy of a used-car salesman. He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a roll of bills in a gold clip and set them on the counter. If I hadn’t been so ticked off with Honey—and Adam for sticking me with her—I’d have laughed. But Honey was there, so I licked my lips and looked interested.
“Well . . .” I began.
Honey turned to me, vibrating with rage. “I hope that Adam lets me be the one to break your scrawny neck.”
Yep. It wouldn’t be long before everyone knew Honey was a werewolf. She was just too easy. I ought to have felt guilty for baiting her.
Instead, I rolled my eyes at her. “Please. "

― Patricia Briggs , Blood Bound (Mercy Thompson, #2)