And Your Point Is?

Francel entered the blessedly quiet apartment at about seven the next morning. He sniffed, and then cringed when all other smells were overshadowed by the scent of a cat still lingering on his clothes. Still, he picked out all four of his roommates, though Bosy and Wimer’s were a bit mixed together.

Curious, he walked down the hall. They were in Bosy’s room, both sleeping. He smelled fading adrenaline and … blood? No, not blood. It was sweeter than blood, but he couldn’t place it.

He showered and washed twice. Athena was an amazing girl, but he really, really didn’t like smelling like a cat. After sliding on sweatpants, he went to the kitchen and started coffee. The faerie, looking amazing as always, came in only moments later.

The werewolf looked good in the morning, Alta decided. He took care of his body anyway. Alta admired the muscles down his back and then on his side when he turned. Francel’s muscles might have been better than his.

Nope. Nothing a werewolf had could ever be bet
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