“You think you can just slide into his space, take what belongs to the Chika Whitmore line, and play the loyal pet?” Driscoll’s voice was a low growl, vibrating with pure werewolf malice as he cornered Malik Arden by the heavy oak doors. “That seat was reserved for the true mate of the Dominion’s heir, not a scavenging stray looking for scraps from Lucien’s plate.”Malik shrugged, tearing off another piece of rare, bloody venison with his teeth, his eyes flashing a predatory gold. “Lucien Afolayan doesn’t look like he minds a little extra company, Driscoll. If the pretty little Whitmore boy wants to claim his territory, he should have scented it properly instead of hiding upstairs like a beaten omega.”“Watch your tongue, Malik,” Driscoll snapped, the hair on his arms bristling as his inner beast pushed against the surface. “Chika saved Lucien’s life when the Silverfang syndicates ambushed our northern borders. His bloodline might be fracturing, but his honor isn’t something a low-ran
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