One minute he was alone, then one gulp later and Josef was sitting across from him. What part of obvious statements and hostile looks did this wolf not understand. It was like he couldn't read the invisible "Fuck off. Leave me alone" signs he was giving off.<br/><br/>Just to shove the point home that he didn't want nor care for Josef's concern and look of distaste at what he was doing, he necked about half the bottle in one go. "It's none of your god damn business," he snapped, "leave me the hell alone so I can enjoy my drink in peace." He was ruining his fun, his buzz, and putting his mind to work when he didn't want it to. He was trying to drown his sorrows, not trudge up more. "Go back to the rock you crawled out from under. You lost, say good bye, go home, and don't bother coming back again," he spat, taking another swig of bourbon when he spotted the waitress coming over with two bottles, one of vodka and the other whiskey. "Finally..."<br/><br/>As the waitress handed over the bottles he glared daggers at Josef. His inner wolf was conflicted, ears back, head lowered and growling ferociously. Both felt the compulsion to obey, sensing the power behind his words, but both had been bruised, beaten and commanded enough for one night. And his human half was too pissed and too loaded with alcohol to bow down, to care, taking control for the moment even if it made him uncomfortable. Not to mention ....<br/><br/>Dante abruptly got to his feet, shoving the two bottles into a pocket each of his leather jacket. Snatching up his opened bottle of bourbon, he placed his hand on the table and leaned forward, getting in Josef face. "You are not my Alpha anymore," he snarled, quick to turn his face away to hide the pain he felt in those words. Wrinkling his nose he stood up straight, scooting out from behind the table. "The scent of your blood is ruining my drinking anyway. Have a nice, cosy little life with some other pack, Josef..." He felt sick and it wasn't because of the alcohol as he made his way past Josef and out the door, no doubt much to the barkeeps relief.<br/><br/>The moment he was outside he did up his jacket to take the bite of the chill off a bit. Clinking around he dug out his pack of cigs and lit one up, sucking in a cloud of sweet relief. Tucking the cigarette in the corner of his lips he took another drink of his bourbon, heading to his bike. Much to his dislike he fumbled with his keys, finally deciding, "fuck it," as he grabbed his bag from the back and started making his way across the road  on foot to the cheap ass motel where he could continue his fun and pass out without further interruptions. He'd come back for his bike tomorrow.