For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack.— Rudyard Kipling, The Jungle Book.LUCIEN My knees threatened to give out, but I held myself up, for them.Alanna. My camellia. The twins.Blood dripped down my chin, warm and slow, staining the floor between us.“I see why they call you the Lycan King sometimes. Most wolves would be dead after what I’ve done to you.”He moved closer, crouching in front of me, his voice a low taunt. “Why won’t you just break?”His hand gripped my jaw, claws pressing into my skin before he drove his fist straight into my ribs.A sound tore out of me before I could stop it, half snarl, half cry, as the air in my lungs turned to glass.The twins started wailing again, and Camellia and Alanna tried to hush them, their voices trembling.The noise hit me harder than the blow.They were too young to understand what was happening, crying because of the noise, because they could smell the blood in the air.They deserved bette
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