I, Layla Manfred, was drunk. I was now sitting outside the bar, smoking to sober up.A street vendor approached me timidly and murmured, "You look stressed, miss. Do you need to blow off some steam? I've got a venting beastkin who can help you unwind."I waved a hand to dispel the smoke. "What?"The vendor glanced warily left and right, confirming no one was watching, before gesturing for the beastkin to approach.This was a wolfhound beastkin. He was tall and slender, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist.When he stood, he blocked out the bar lights, which cast a shadow over me.Before I could react, the vendor yanked the crude collar around his neck, forcing him to his knees before removing the rusty muzzle.The vendor yanked his hair, forcing him to look up as his face was revealed. The beastkin had pale skin, a high nose, and his thin lips were pursed tightly together. Bruises marred his brow and the corners of his mouth. His narrowed eyes were locked onto me like those o
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