ALPHA KING'S FAKE LUNA
Lisa wrapped her fingers around the wine glass and had a sip of the crimson, red wine.
Since I was a child, my wolf had been a strict vegetarian. It wasn’t just a preference, the mere scent of cooked meat felt like a physical assault on my senses. My wolf would recoil, pacing restlessly, baring its teeth at the very smell that others found appetizing. She was allergic to grapes but she hated meat.
Back then, Kyle used to laugh at me, saying that, being a wolf, I couldn't handle meat.
Lisa knew this, and she was determined to tear off my mask. She hadn't just prepared a meal, she had built a minefield. As far as my gaze went on the table, the plates were piled high with everything I couldn't