The Chosen Mate Of The Lycan King
He screamed, his neck and shoulders bulging with anger, his fists were wet with Dren’s blood as he continued to punch and punch him, the whole courtyard was silent, not even the guards dared interfere.
Meanwhile
Miles away, in a hidden command post hidden in the unmarked territory, Ryk was sitting in front of a monitor, his eyes were filled with anger as the audio recorder crackled with Dren gasping for help, while Fardar cursed and continued to punch him.
The wire was still transmitting, but the call to the rogue merchant had been cut off.
“Damn it,” Ryk muttered, as he ran his hand through his hair, slamming his fists on the table in anger.
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