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Chapter Twenty-three

Elton woke up to the soft glow of dawn filtering through his curtains. He stretched and yawned, the excitement of meeting Beverly again last night still tingling in his veins. His mind raced with thoughts of their reunion – the way her eyes had lit up, the sound of her laughter, the way her fingers had brushed against his. It had been a long time since they were last together, and the memory of their time apart felt like a distant ache.

As he lay in bed, he couldn't help but reflect on the current state of affairs in Omaha. Omaha had changed drastically since the rise of werewolves, and Elton couldn't ignore the nagging sense of unease that had settled in the pit of his stomach as he pondered on it. While the power he still possessed was undeniably exhilarating, he couldn't shake off the feeling that something was amiss – that this world of werewolves really came at a high price.

His thoughts drifted back to his father, King Rico. Elton had always looked up to him, respected him as a
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