Peter stared out the window as they drove to Roman's place. It had taken longer for them to release him to Roman because Peter had not reacted well to the whole process to begin with and when the auctioneer said sold, he had managed to shift out of the cuffs and attack the guard. The whole scene a mess of gore that had to be cleaned up for the auctions to go on. Half the blood and gore was his own as his shifting had always been a very violent sight.
Not allowing himself to look over at Roman when the car stopped, he waited a few beats before grabbing his messenger bag and climbing out of the car slowly. His limbs ached, the wolfsbane they had pumped through him making the world spin as if he had taken the gypsy arrow drugs. Peter looked up slowly when Roman directed the comment at him. Eyes flashing gold, he growled at his once friend and new 'master.'
"If I hadn't spent the entire night out with you I wouldn't have fucking ran into them while going home." He snapped. "And this isn't my fucking home."