Sloane’s POV
The packhouse is suffocating. The endless smell of victory, heavy with the scents of sweat and celebratory champagne, made my skin crawl. The team is still riding the high of the overtime win, their laughter irritating me.
It was all so painfully predictable. They play, they win, and then everyone converges on our Alpha’s packhouse- Xavier's- to drown the night in noise. Some of the cups held alcohol, though most didn’t, as there was never much point in consuming booze or any other toxin on a night like this. The moment we shifted into our wolf forms, the effects vanished completely, stripped away by our rapid healing. Toxins only lingered if we stayed human.
Even on nights they lost, the team still ended up right here, throwing the exact same party, but with less jubilance
