Fated to the Black Sheep Alpha
I reached down and grabbed Torin by his messy brown hair, forcing his head up against his will as I shoved the glowing phone screen right into his face.
“Look at it, you blind dog, look at the screen right now,” I demanded, my voice shaking with a dangerous, hysterical edge. “The stories are gone, the whole entire network is dead.”
Torin blinked his swollen, yellow wolf eyes, trying hard to focus on the sharp white text against the flat black background. He read the short lines slowly, his jaw gradually dropping open as the words finally registered in his brain.
“Under new management, purged. What do you mean by purged,” he stammered, his voice turning weak as he looked up at me.
Bab Populer