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FREYA'S WOLF

His t-shirt didn't hide his broad shoulders, defined upper body or washboard abs. Ripped, that was what he was. This was a rare moment for Freya. Seeing Dante in a causal outfit was a sight to behold. This man was created differently.

Ordinarily, Freya didn't much like the analytically condescending look, but she found that she couldn't help but admire that physique. In addition, both her body and her wolf helplessly reacted to the power that was practically buzzing around him; he wore authority like a second skin. Perversely, his hard, penetrating stare was heating her blood rather than affronting her.

His eyes had taken on a glazed, hungry look that both thrilled and startled her. It made her wolf growl in excitement. The primal lust that gripped her was so intense it almost hurt. Well, that was just great. Maybe she was developing hate-love feelings or something.

In any case, no way would her inconvenient attraction to him inspire her to react to him as her body and her wolf wanted
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