“Werewolves can drink? Can you even get drunk?” I asked, getting closer to the window, my body forgetting how exhausted it was.
Derik snickered as Nikolai laughed.
“It’s different than human alcohol, and you should ask Brax, he knows better than us,” Derik teased, and Brax scoffed.
“I enjoy a drink every now and then,” he muttered, but I got the feeling his “every now and then” was more often than my definition.
I smiled and looked back out the window.
There was a girl getting f****d against the wall in the alley outside the pub, and I raised a brow at the way the guy clawed at her, her claws and fangs out too. It was feral, animalistic, and it turned me on.
“Hmm, interesting,” Nikolai said, looking out the window, seeing the couple, then looking back at me.
I shrugged, smirking. I
