Back inside the Alpha manor of the Bloodmoon Packhouse, the atmosphere was thick with toxic paranoia and mounting panic. Alpha Derek lay sprawled across his leather sofa, his shirt unbuttoned, his chest drenched in cold, sickly sweat. He had refused food for thirty-six hours. The spiritual backlash of rejecting a True Sovereign Mate—a curse known among ancient shifters as the 'Hollow Soul'—was setting into his nervous system. His skin burned…
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