As the evening loomed, my sense of dread intensified. I would be keeping an eye on a mermaid venturing on land, who was on the brink of overindulging in alcohol, and I had no idea how she might react.
Meanwhile, a possibly latent hybrid merman—who just happens to be Brocks beta in our midst— is inexplicably drawn to Esme, unable to grasp the nature of his attraction.
Then there was the overbearing Alpha (my mate), whose controlling tendencies led him to shadow my every move relentlessly.
To add to this eclectic mix, I had extended an invitation to our pack's witch, a benevolent soul reminiscent of Glinda, the Good Witch of the North.
The bouncer noticed our group waiting in the background and allowed us to skip the line. This prompted groans and complaints from the younger crowd until
