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... r. She found him waiting, standing amidst the flowers as if he were a man of peace. She halted for a moment, silently observing the one who had made her childhood a living hell.

To the unknowing eye, he might appear gentle, even approachable, but she knew better. He was no father, he was a demon in a werewolf’s skin.

With a resolute expression, she stepped forward, stopping beside him.

"Your Grace... or should I simply call you Belle?" He said, acknowledging her presence ...

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