Collars

“Hey, Liam. Kaden,” Micheal said as he walked into the room where the other two men were. “Mako wants to know when we can go hunt down the hunters and kick some gobshite ass.”

Kaden started to grin, doubting that Mako, a werewolf as they were but different because he was a rogue from some pack he had never heard of, who lived across the street, had used the term gobshit, but Liam growled. “Mako can keep his pants on and his mouth shut.”

Micheal went to the refrigerator and helped himself to a chilled beer. His movements were restless, angry, a young werewolf impatient to make his place in the world. “They invaded our territory, or as well as. They put our females in danger. I say Mako is right. We fight.”

“Since when do you listen stupid ass**les like Mako?” Liam’s voice had an edge to it. “We’ll get them, lad.”

“By sitting around drinking Guinness?” Micheal muttered, taking a swig of his beer, swallowed, and wiped his mouth. “Fine leaders you are.”

“I talked to the human cops before