Mafia Alpha's Wolfless Mate
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The man pulls a chair for me next to the host.
“Thank you.” I slightly smile at him.
“Leave us, Mirom,” Alek says, his elbows on the table. He changed from his suit to a black shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
I notice tattoos on his forearms with symbols I don’t recognize, instead of maybe a dragon, skulls, or roses. Tattoos don’t usually stay on werewolves’ skin for long, and I don’t know how he makes it possible.
“These are not tattoos.”