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... lver. Blessed. Etched with ancient glyphs meant to shatter a werewolf’s will.
He snarled, thrashing in vain as cold stone met his back. The crypt reeked of rot and old power, like death had taken root in the air itself. Crimson torches flickered against the cracked walls, casting shadows that twisted like spirits in agony.
"Don’t take it personally, brother," came the cold voice of Kellen, his half-brother and Alpha-in-waiting. "You were born strong. Too strong. The elders feared ...
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