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TWENTY-FOUR

SLADE

“I want him dead,” My gaze remained fixed on the dimwit’s bloodied face. He mumbled something incoherent before rolling on his left side, coughing and spewing blood on the hard concrete ground of his cell.

“As you wish, Alpha,” The guard on duty saluted before grabbing Daryl’s tattered shirt and hauling him off the ground.

“Slade-“ Marcel looked like he was going to protest but one glare was enough to keep him shut.

Daryl was almost unrecognizable. His face was badly bruised and battered, his legs could barely hold him up. But I wasn’t satisfied, I wanted him totally out of the way, I couldn’t even bear to think that he’d had his hands on my mate. I made sure that picture was deleted, never to be seen again, but I couldn’t wipe it from my memory. Asher wanted him dead for touching our mate, and it’s the one thing we have agreed on in a long time.

I hated members of Lakewood Pack in a special way, and it is no news members of their pack were outcasts here. Their witch did this to
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