“She’s not here either! Damn it!” Damion says, slamming his hand on the steering wheel. I was sure she’d be here. The new Beta’s house is dark and empty. Damion drives away, clearly frustrated. “She could be anywhere,” Sera sighs, also frustrated. They’d be driving around aimlessly. “There’s one more place she could be,” Damion states, pulling a U-turn in the middle of the road. They drive to the Wolf and Fiddle, a small pub near the pack border. Sera follows him inside and sure enough, Miriam is there, sitting at the counter, slumped over a martini glass. Several empty ones are strewn around her; clearly, she’s been drinking. “Miriam,” Damion exclaims, as relief washes over his face. When she hears her name, she turns around. It takes her eyes a few moments to focus, but then she topples off the bar stool and runs, clumsily, into Damion’s arms. She leaps up and he catches her, spinning her around like a scene from a movie. Sera watches
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