Phantom Club

I sat on the sofa, a variety of drinks scattered on the table. Luan was busy mixing them into some high-alcohol concoction.

Of course, for werewolves, human alcohol was useless—it couldn't get us drunk.

Out on the dance floor, Luan and Mia danced to the music, their bodies swaying in rhythm with the crowd.

"You look upset," Eileen leaned in and shouted over the pounding music.

"It's too stuffy in here. I need some fresh air," I said, already moving toward the door.

The thick smell of smoke and perfume made it impossible to relax. My thoughts kept turning back to Raymond.

The truth was, I didn't know...