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Chapter 177 MATTERS OF THE HEART
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... t like liquid fire.
I slammed the glass onto the counter and motioned for another. The bartender hesitated—probably because I’d already had too many—but one glare from me and he poured anyway.
Bass thumped through Luna Noire’s overhead speakers, vibrating against the wood and metal like a pulse I couldn’t silence.
Around me, laughter and wolf-scent mingled thickly with alcohol and desperation.
I hated it. I hated all of it. The stench of weak wolves pretending to ...
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