Stepbrother’s Obsession: Claimed By The Triplet Alphas
A sickening crack.
Another rogue stepped from the shadows, tall and built like a tank, with scars down his cheek like claw marks that never healed clean. His eyes locked on me—cold and amused.
Two more behind him.
“Three against one?” I said, spitting blood from my mouth and rising to my feet. “Cowards travel in packs now?”
The first rogue staggered up beside them, wheezing. “He’s fast.”
“Not fast enough,” Scar-cheek replied smoothly.
Behind me, Rufus let out a low, broken growl from where he lay bleeding in the clearing, his hulking wolf form barely holding together. His fur was matted with blood, a back leg twisted at a brutal angle, and the scent of pain and iron choked the air.
Bab Populer