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31

I felt another burst of heat and anger flash through me, and I screamed, cursing both Night and Troy as loudly as I could.

“Put me down!” I called. “Put me down, you asshole!”

Night ignored me, so I continued.

“I’m so sick and tired of werewolves doing whatever they like to me! Why can’t any of you listen to me for even one second?” I punctuated my questions with another volley of ineffective blows to his back.

“Probably because you’re so fucking annoying,” he growled. “Shut up already.”

“No! I hope I scream until all you hear for the rest of your life is my voice!”

I had spent my entire life with my head down. And now I was mad enough to leave any wolf who crossed me bloody and blue—if only my strength could match those desires. All I had going for me was my voice, but it was unlikely that any of the Kings would hear me; the ceremony was still in full swing, and everyone would be focused on getting drunk or getting lucky. Few would pay the screaming any mind.

Angry tears filled my ey
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