Third Person POV The man sitting by the alley dumpster looked like he had been forgotten by the world.His hair was long and greasy, tied back with a torn shoelace. A thick beard covered most of his face, hiding the sharp jawline beneath the grime. His clothes were ragged and mismatched. He had on an old coat that didn’t fit, shoes with holes, and jeans stained with dirt. He sat quietly, eyes half-closed, like he hadn’t slept in days.Dominic Blackwood, Alpha ofthe Ironclaw Pack had chosen this disguise carefully. The smell, the mess, the filth, he wore it all like armor. If people thought he was nothing, they wouldn’t look twice. That was the point.A group of young men passed by. One of them, tall and cocky, stopped and sneered. “You stink, old man. Get lost.”Dominic didn’t react.“What? Cat got your tongue?” The man leaned closer, laughing. “Disgusting.”Dominic slowly lifted his eyes. They were sharp and piercing, too cold for a man in rags.The guy backed off a little, unsettle
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