Price of Disrespect

ALPHA BRONSON POV

An hour later the guard was on his fifth drink. And drunk wolves always talked.

The guard was loud. Getting louder.

We moved to a table closer to the guard. Started a dice game. Made noise. Laughed. Blended in.

The guard noticed. Stumbled over.

"Room for one more?" he slurred.

"Depends." I rolled the dice. "You got coin?"

"Must be nice," Flint said. "Working for the Dark Alpha."