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17. Claws

Drake paces up and down the main room of the packhouse. It looks like he’s barely containing himself. The mighty and muscle packed body of his makes the huge room look tiny and way too tight right now. I can watch each and every strained muscle flex on his body as he makes the room his own.

His nostrils flare as soon as I enter the room, with burning anger, his eyes bore into mine. An anger I’ve seen way too many times around others, but never directed at me. Not even in the night he killed me. It feels like the air has been sucked out of the room.

My mind keeps on replaying the night he killed, reminding me that this in front of me isn’t the mate I thought I had. If he was, I might feel bad right now, but I don’t. Do I fear him? A clear yes. Will it stop me? Most definitely not.

"We're strong," I hear in my head.

As his steps take him towards me, I try to prepare myself for what’s to come by taking in a deep breath and closing my eyes.

The second his angry voice booms through the ro
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