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STORM

The morning air was crisp as the first rays of sunlight filtered through the dense trees surrounding the pack house. Elena woke up to the sound of birds chirping softly outside the window, her hand resting protectively on her stomach. The previous night's events weighed heavily on her mind, but today felt different. A fragile peace lingered, and she intended to enjoy it while it lasted.

Damien was already up, standing near the window, his muscular frame outlined against the golden light. He seemed lost in thought, his mind likely racing through the countless ways he could protect his family, his pack, and Elena.

Elena slipped out of bed and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind. He tensed at first, his body still on high alert, but he relaxed as soon as he felt her touch.

“You’re up early,” she whispered, resting her cheek against his back.

He sighed, placing his hands over hers. “Couldn’t sleep,” he admitted. “Too much to think about.”

She stayed silent,
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