The Alpha's Unwanted Queen
She was trapped.
Torin stopped barely a foot away from her, towering over her small, trembling frame. He leaned down, his face a mask of cold, unyielding suspicion, his nostrils flaring as he took in her synthetic scent of honey and berries. Beneath that artificial sweetness, his wolf, Fenrir, was clawing at his mind, letting out a desperate, confusing howl of agony that only made Torin more furious. He thought she was using some form of underhanded magic to manipulate his beast.
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