#Chapter 128: A Few Scars

Darren The station was cold, sterile, and reeked of stale coffee. I sat in the interrogation room, my fingers drumming against the metal table as I waited for the man to be brought in. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, already giving me a migraine. Or maybe that was just the sensation of my wolf stirring restlessly beneath my skin. My wolf was agitated by the confinement. After our stay in the pack lands, he was even more aggravated by the human city than usual, and being in a windowless room was just pissing him off even more. I didn’t want to be here either, though. I didn’t want to waste my time talking to someone who had tried to hurt Aria, who had brought a gun—a fucking gun—to what was supposed to be a peaceful charity fundraiser. But the police had called me earlier that morning, offering me a chance to question him before they transferred him to a holding facility. And as much as I hated the idea of sitting across from this man, I needed answers.