Chapter Three
Owen yawned and stretched his neck from side to side, satisfied to hear the pops and cracks of muscle and bone releasing. Or whatever caused a neck to c***k. He wasn't sure. It sounded awful but felt amazing. He took a sip of his gigantic iced coffee and imagined he could feel the caffeine starting to flow through his system. He'd asked for three extra shots of espresso and a buttload of sugar and cream to offset the bitterness.
The barista hadn't batted an eye. He was sure she’d seen much worse.
He didn't know if it was werewolf metabolism or years of resistance, but it took a lot of coffee to wake him up, especially after a run. And the drive to the city in the middle of the night had been annoying. But he was glad he hadn't waited. He could hear the horns of the cars we
