POV: Lyra The power surged through me, a wild, untamed thing that had just killed a man. I stood over Michael Luparcal’s lifeless body, my hands still faintly glowing, the enchanted ring clutched tight in my palm. The scent of his death, a thick, metallic coppery smell, filled the air. I knew, with a chilling certainty, that I had to run. My cover was blown. My wolf, a silent, terrified part of me, was now a beacon, a scream in the darkness that every Alpha would hear. I didn't waste another second. I shoved the ring back on my finger, a futile gesture, and bolted for the door. The sound of my own heart, a frantic drum against my ribs, was the only thing I could hear. I ran through the maze of corridors, past the empty rooms and the silent doors, heading for the main exit. But before I could reach it, a group of men blocked my path. They weren’t Kyle’s men, and they weren’t Michael’s. They were different. Their scent was familiar, a scent I had come to associate with both danger a
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