“Everyone is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody.” ― Mark Twain
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(Mikayla)
"I am taking you home. Come on, now." He tried to grab the pink fruity mocktail out of my hand, and I pulled it back, clutching it closer to my chest, my lips pressed together in a sullen frown. He was not taking it away from me.
He stared at the drink and then at me, shaking his head, eyes narrowed to the point that they were just two angry slits.
"No, you are not. You must think that just because you are an Alpha that everyone should obey you, but you are not my Alpha, and I don't have to listen to what you have to say, okay?"
"You are still drunk." And it was not even a damn question.
He was so freaking confident that I would have the spine to talk back only when I was drunk
