“They gave you that junk?” He sneers. You brace for another insult, hating him just as much, but he stops mid-sentence. His eyes go distant, as if sensing something. A gust of wind carries your scent to him, and his body goes rigid.
Now it’s clear—his wolf whispers it to him: Omega.
You see something flicker in his eyes, but it’s gone quickly. He’s back to being the same cold, arrogant jerk.
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