Chapter 166: Hannah

The arena throbbed with the sound of a thousand voices, a cacophony of excitement. The crowd surged, a restless wave of chattering attendees anticipating the next fight. The air hung heavy with the smells of sweat, beer, and cheap food.

Truth be told, I'd never given much thought to fight clubs. Werewolves attending such events was commonplace—in our pack, and most others—a staple of pack life, even. But I'd never cared for it. I still didn't, really, only accepting Drake's invitation to annoy Noah.

Though, I couldn't deny the thrill it ignited tonight. My heart pounded, my pupils dilated. Every drop of blood on the ring floor sent a vibrant thrum through my veins, my wolf bristling within. Blood. Perhaps that's what I craved—good, old-fashioned blood and sweat.

Zoe, predictably, shed her mask of excitement once Noah and Drake departed. She settled into her seat, scrolling through her phone and tapping her foot on the concrete floor, offering little to the conversation.

I glanced at my phone. The next fight was about to begin, but the crowd was too dense to spot Noah and Drake.

"They've been gone a while," I said, straining to see over the heads of the crowd.

Zoe looked up. "You think they got lost?"

I shrugged, offering a smirk. "Maybe. They are men, after all."

To my surprise, Zoe smirked back before returning to her phone. Sighing, I left our box and pushed through the crowd, searching for Noah and Drake.

A few minutes later, I found them near a food stand. Noah fumbled with crumpled bills; Drake stood nearby, a perturbed expression on his face. His brow was furrowed, his shirt slightly rumpled. He glanced at me, then at Noah, then over the crowd, his jaw clenched. Strange. Drake was usually jovial.

Before I could question him, Noah thrust a pretzel and soda into my hands. "Thanks," I muttered, taking a sip. The cold, crisp sweetness was almost enough to dilate my pupils again.

"Need anything else?" Noah asked. Drake was already grabbing beers and pretzels for himself and Zoe, disappearing back into the crowd.

+25 BONUS

I shook my head, holding up my cup. "This is diet, right?"

Noah pursed his lips. "You don't need that diet nonsense. It's no better than regular soda."

Shocked, I opened and closed my mouth. I'd asked for diet soda, not regular. "But the sugar," I protested, jogging to keep pace with Noah's long strides as he headed back to our seats. "Too many calories."

He shot me a withering look over his shoulder, his green eyes traveling up and down my body, lingering on my thighs. My thighs, which, lately, had been a bit fuller and were particularly noticeable tonight in my tight jeans.

My face flushed crimson under his gaze. I couldn't tell if he was judging me or devouring me with his eyes. Maybe both? Or neither?

Chapter 167