Curse of the Wolves
With my luck, it was all three.
Needing something to quell the fire in my veins, I picked up the crystal goblet next to my plate and sniffed the clear liquid inside. Azrael continued molesting the piece of fruit with his lips and tongue, watching me as though I were the most interesting thing in the world. Spoiler alert, I was.
“That,” he gestured to the goblet, “is an ancient beverage we immortal have been indulging in for centuries.”
I paused, the cup halfway to my lips. “What is it?”
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