Riley's POV
Standing outside this dimly lit establishment, uncertainty grips me like a vice. The neon sign flickers overhead, casting an eerie glow across my face as I push through the heavy wooden door. The unfamiliar scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke hits me immediately, making my wolf senses recoil. I have absolutely no experience with places like this. Back in the pack, alcohol was permitted once you came of age since our supernatural metabolism required much more to achieve any real effect. But human establishments operate under entirely different rules, and I am completely out of my element.
The interior is darker than I expected, with low lighting that creates shadows in every corner. Round wooden tables dot the space, most occupied by groups of people laughing loudly over their drinks. A long bar stretches across one wall, bottles of various liquors lined up like soldiers behind it. My hands shake slightly as I approach, trying to project confidence I do not possess.
