THIS PART OF THE STORY TAKES PLACE FOUR YEARS EARLIER.
TRIGGER: VIOLENCE, BLOOD. IF YOU'RE NOT COMFORTABLE PLEASE SKIP THIS CHAPTER
The noise inside the club was difficult for the werewolves to bear, however, each of them quickly took a stand after mingling with the humans. Krasny was leaning on the counter, a glass of water in his hand. He was doing his best to ignore the annoyed looks from the bartender who probably thought he was ruining his business. However, given his size, the man dared do nothing but shoot glances at him.
Even at only seventeen, his werewolf nature made him taller, more muscular, and more impressive than a normal human. Even though he was a rogue, malnourished, and exhausted from the constant running, he could easily be confused with a human in his early twenties despite being underage.
