Hangover Quotes Wolfpack Novelas e Histórias

I only gave a little smile, trying to hide the insane burning of the alcohol down my throat. “She should be, but she wants peace,” Erebus blurted out too fast for me to stop him. I glared sideways at him and they both laughed, a grabbing of alcohol, passing one to me. “Come on, chug it. That’s all. You’ll be fine tomorrow. The omega makes good hangover soups,” one of the men spoke, grazing a kiss against the supposed trio’s lips. And instantly they were all indeed fucking each other. Well… I’d thought as much. Straight-up fucking hot.

“So… “ Alan started. Was he talking on volume one hundred? “Did you two gals have fun last night?” Emily muttered something that sounded like yes while she downed her coffee. I could only stare at Alan. Partly because I felt like I was dying … and partly because he was so damn beautiful… it actually hurt to look at him. Why did we have hangovers anyway? We were werewolves for goddess sake. “You two just need some greasy food… that’ll fix you both right up..” Alan said…. Or shouted .. I couldn’t tell any more.

It was only a few minutes past 4 and in an hour, Alpha Oslo would call for the wolf-run where the pack members ran together under the last bit of moon in the sky. I needed to be gone before then. Conan returned with the bottle of drink. He handed me a cup and poured, only stopping when it reached half of the cup. He poured himself one too. “Wait.” He stopped me as I was about to take a sip of the drink, “Don’t you think we should make a toast?” “Oh…right.” I said, clanking my glass with his. “To our future.” He said. I paused, confused for a second but nodded, “To our

“The other day you came back home drunk, what…” “Sorry to interrupt you, I didn’t come back home drunk. I have an active wolf so I can never be drunk. Drunkenness is for werewolves with weak wolves,” he bragged. “I was drugged at an event, I wasn’t drunk,” he added. “At an event or at the club?” I asked.

One second, I was grinning out at the assembled wolves, a glass of wine that didn’t taste alcoholic at all sloshing in my loose grip, a cheer rising in my throat – and then, boom. I was doubled over, my blood turned to fire in my veins, my heart beating out a rhythm that sent shards of glass slicing through my skin. The scene of the Pack Awards before me swayed and blurred; I slammed my eyelids shut and dug my nails into my thighs, trying to ground myself. “Alpha?” Harley was quick to steady me, hoisting me up and making a quick, flippant joke about me over-indulging on the wine – even though we all knew it hadn’t had a chance to be fermented anywhere near long enough to have that sort of fu

Our pack suffered losses, and the weight of those sacrifices settled heavily upon our shoulders. One evening, as we gathered around a campfire, the faces of our fallen comrades haunted our thoughts. The crackling flames danced in sync with our solemn silence. It was then that an old werewolf, Grayson, spoke up. "We carry the legacy of those who came before us," Grayson said, his voice filled with a mix of sorrow and determination. "Their spirits live within us, guiding us, giving us strength. We owe it to them to continue the fight, to seek justice for their sacrifice."

Roderick, his voice gruff but sincere, added, "We’ve seen what we can achieve when we stand united. Our combined strength has proven itself in battle. We must continue to support each other and ensure that our alliance remains strong. The future is uncertain, but together, we can face any challenge." The gathering was filled with a renewed sense of purpose and camaraderie. The packs shared stories of their fallen comrades, offering their respect and gratitude. There was a moment of silence as each wolf paid their respects, their heads bowed in memory of those who had given everything. The fire crackled softly, a comforting presence in the midst of their grief.

he snapped, eyes blazing with murder, "if I die before I get laid again, I’m haunting your ass." "I thought the phrase was 'too young to die'," I quipped. Nerd reflex. Rowland growled. It was music to my ears. "You dragged me into this. I should’ve known better than to follow your deranged wolf instincts. You’re a walking catastrophe." "Hey! I'm resourcefully impulsive, not catastrophic," I defended, tossing in a hair flip even though we were tied up. Style matters. "No brain. None. Not even zombies would touch your head in an apocalypse."

“Your alpha’s chained like a dog tonight. Run along.” I smiled sweet, poured fresh wine from the decanter he kept for guests. Three drops of clear hemlock slid in without a ripple. “To your health, High Commander,” I said, voice soft. He raised the cup, mocking. “To dead packs and broken wolves.” He drank deep. I watched his throat work, watched the smug die in his eyes when the first cramp hit. He clawed at his neck, wine and foam spilling red across the maps of my childhood home. He tried to scream my name but only blood came out.

Kevin interrupted, "I don't think we should take this nightmare too lightly, A wolf had a nightmare... Think about it..." "You're also right Kevin", I will look into this matter, I said gulping down my wine whilst I spoke making me to choke. Cough...cough!! "Easy..easy bro, Sorry" I nodded patting my chest. "Good wine..Cough...", I muttered and sipped the wine again this time slowly. Brandon lifted his glass, "Let's toast to the wellness of our Pack and the destruction of that bad dream." We all laughed heartily, "Cheers..!"