XARION'S POV
"Alright, that's enough, Xarion."
Andrew's voice cuts through my daze, but I ignore him, lifting the bottle to pour another drink into my glass.
The amber liquid sloshes against the sides, and I down it in one go, barely tasting the burn anymore.
"Xarion," Andrew repeats, louder this time. "Seriously, man. That's enough."
I still don't look at him. I just tip the bottle, filling the empty glass to the brim again.
We're sitting in one of Arkon's most expensive bars, the kind of place where Alphas come to unwind after deals and meetings.
The lighting's muted, the leather seats are soft, and the music's low enough not to be distracting.
But right now, none of that matters.
All I can think about is her.
Megan.
And him.
Vance.
"Do you even realize how much you've had?
