Alpha Victor and His Omega
There’s the smell of mold and the distant sound of dripping water.
“Nice,” Ariadne comments.
Harry doesn’t respond. Instead, producing a large piece of red chalk from thin air. He measures with his feet, counting under his breath before drawing a really uniform circle about three meters in diameter.
“This ring,” Harry explains. “You fight inside. If you get pushed out, you die. Transformations are not allowed. It has to be won as a man, no weapons of any kind, under the light of the Wolf Moon.”
“You Packs are so f*cking weird,” Ariadne comments. “Can’t you settle your affairs with rock-paper scissors like the rest of us? I mean, do you need to climb a f*cking volcano every time there’s a cha
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