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GENERAL TIGER’S POV
I stood on the ridge, the sea wind lashing through my mane, salt clinging to my tongue. Below me, the beach roared with the battle-born breath of the Rogourau. The frontline burned with shifting bodies and rising flame.
But all I could see was him, Ralph, my mate. He stood at the tide’s edge, his chest rising with the rhythm of the earth beneath him. The shift began slowly at first, then suddenly, like lightning catching dry leaves.
His bones ...
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