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... was laughing at me. Because, really, how else could I explain my life? I used to have dreamssimple ones. A little freedom, a quiet cottage, maybe a mate who didn’t treat me like dirt. Instead, I’d ended up as the "personal omega" of the most terrifying crazy Alpha in existence that has sworn to make my life a living hell. I’m not his mate, his lover, in fact I’m not even his friend, rather he sees me as just his possession. His property. His personal chew toy, or maybe more like his chained pet. ...
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