Chapter 82
Third Person's POV
Late at night, West Side.
On a street where human and werewolf territories overlapped, a dimly lit wolf bar hung its neon sign, "Moonlit Rest."
After midnight, they stopped serving humans. The clientele passing in and out were almost exclusively wolves, their gland scents heavy in the air.
In the semi-enclosed booth on the second floor, the light was low. The air was a thick mix of alcohol, tobacco, and pheromones.
When Fred pushed open the semi-transparent soundproof door, Cassian was half-reclined on the sofa.
Two buttons of his shirt were undone. A distinct red mark tracked the line of his Alpha gland near his collar—it looked like it had been scraped raw by high-pressure pheromones and alcohol.
Fred walked over and cautiously held his hand near Cas
