64
Tristan POV
I am no longer volatile in my emotions. At least, that's what I tell myself as I push open the car door and step out into the thick summer air.
The music from the heart of the city thrums against my skin like a living thing. The hum of voices, the laughter, the rising notes of want and hunger—it coils in the air like smoke.
I glance down the street. Already, the festivities have begun in earnest.
I barely take ten steps before I catch sight of two wolves pressed against a stone wall, mouths locked, hands roaming hungrily over bare skin. Their bodies grind against each other with unashamed fervor, lost in their own world.
I snort softly. Figures. The night has barely started, and already wolves are indulging.
Shifting my gaze away, I steady my breath and start moving.
I know where I must go.
