Chapter 16

Andre chuckled. “He’s one thousand and fifty-four.”

“Whew.”

“How old are you?” Andre asked him.

“Twenty-five,” Sand replied without blinking an eye.

“On your driver’s license, perhaps. How old in actuality?”

“Almost seventy. Raúl was three when I was born. My father was close to two-hundred when he died.”

“Died, or was killed?” Andre was aware that he knew less than he probably should about werewolves, but he was under the impression they were close to immortal and said so.

Sand quickly corrected him. “In general we live three to four times as long as humans, thanks to our regenerating each time we shift. But, we reach a point when even that doesn’t stop the aging process. We may continue to look much younger than our real age, but eventually we will die.” He smiled dryly. “If we aren’t killed first, which happens more often than you might think, like when two werewolves battle to become a pack’s Alpha. Sometimes the fight is to the death.”