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... broth slid down her throat in a noisy slurp that echoed across the silent kitchen. When she lowered it, not a drop remained.

Every eye in the room clung to her in disbelieve. Marta’s stare burned the hottest of all, her jaw tight, her fingers gripping the counter as though she was imaging it to be Rhea. Was this really the same girl who used to bow her head and let anyone trample over her? It had to be some act, some temporary burst of nerve. Once the Alpha got hold of her, this façade ...

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