Chapter 50. Future Prophecies of a Werewolf

It only took about five minutes to get to Draven’s. A grunt, some French expletives, and a bit of broken English greeted them as Draven opened his door and motioned them to come in.

“Mon Dieu mon homme! So nice to see you again! It must be a few decades since I saw you last in Canada, Dante. What brings you to these parts? I thought you made a home for yourself in the south of Britain?”

“I did. But Keme and I were hunting. The trail fizzled when we got closer to here.”

“Hunting, eh? I’m always up for a good hunt!”

“This isn’t the type of hunt you are used to, Draven.” Keme interrupted.

Draven eyed Keme as if he were sizing him up before speaking.

“I’m also always up for a fight. And by the looks of you, I could take you on.”

“Draven, we didn’t come here to start any trouble. We came here to see if you could help.” Dante said.

Draven retracted his claws, which seemed to appear within seconds. He let out a long, steady breath to regain s