Marcus could smell the trouble. Despite being halfway across the city, he could tell many uninvited guests had made their way to the city. He'd never smelled so much magic before; the Lycan would have his work cut out for him. But if there was one person who could put the Sorcerer Clan in their place, it was the King of Werewolves. The reinforcement the Lycan had promised hadn't come, and no one at the Chicago Park estate had been picking up their calls. Marcus was forced to set out on his own. As a result, the search party was made up of an omega, a human, a weakened gamma, and an injured Beta. It couldn't get any worse, but it was better than nothing. "I've got nothing. All this magic is getting to my nose." Tori, the gamma who hadn't joined the rest of the Lycan's pack because she'd lost her ability to stay in her werewolf form for long, bit out bitterly. "You doing any better?" She turned to Marcus. He, in fact, was not. Marcus was in no shape to be outside, and he was beg
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