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... orners of my vision, my wolf pushing closer to the surface, begging to take over. My hands curled into fists, my breathing fast and sharp.

“Still got that runt temper, huh?” one of them laughed, leaning back in his chair like this was all some kind of game.

I stopped just short of him, my chest rising and falling hard. My fists clenched tighter. “Say that again.”

“Runt,” another sneered. “You think you’re scary now? You were the weakest wolf in the pack. Always holding El ...

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