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... r was thick with the stench of spilled beer and sweat. The pack of rough-edged werewolves lounged around, their raucous laughter echoing off the crumbling walls. A few crows cawed outside in the trees, but none of the men paid them any mind. They were too busy talking and drinking, reveling in their victory over Derek Hale the previous night.

The Alpha of the group, known simply as Boss sat at the head of the room. His one good eye gleamed with smug satisfaction as he swirled a half-empt ...

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