“I really wish you wouldn’t do this,” she said, glaring over the table full of silver dishes. There was a pile of fugu sashimi and a still-squirming dish of sannakji. More deadly delicacies lined the spread, each on its own gleaming tray.
“It’s an eating challenge,” he replied. “Don’t be such a baby.”
“But it’s so dangerous. Over a hundred people die a year from-“
He held up a hand, cutting her off. “What’s a little risk to us?”
“Fine,” the one werewolf said to her partner. “But I wish you wouldn’t use silverware.”
“That’s the best part!” he complained.

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