Mabella's POV"You want access to my daughter," Mabella said, sitting across from Elan in the secured room. The air felt thick, like the stone walls themselves were holding their breath. Fred stood at the door, arms crossed tight, his jaw set like he was ready to rip throats if things went sideways. Two corridors away, Serena held the baby, safe and warm and far from this mess, but Mabella still felt the pull in her chest, that deep wolf-mama instinct screaming to keep her cub away from anything with teeth."For preservation purposes," Elan corrected quietly. Their voice was softer than she'd expected, almost worn thin. "There's a difference.""Tell me the difference," Mabella pressed. She leaned forward, elbows on the table, staring hard into those tired eyes. Her braid hung heavy over her shoulder, still smelling faintly of last night's lamp oil and Alfredo's skin. God, she could still feel the ache between her legs from how they'd come undone together, that slow, certain release af
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