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Depressed Being

BRIELLE’S POV

"I'm sorry, but we can't accept you here without payment. This place is only for..."

Brielle lost track of the receptionist's statement as she retreated, saying a thank you she didn't intend and stepping out of the modest motel she'd seen.

It had been around three days since she had been booted out of Darius' mansion, and the outside world had been horrible for her—three days of unending agony, sleeping beneath bridges and in the backseats of open automobiles, eating food from garbage cans or restaurant leftovers, and even wishing for death.

All of these tragic situations paled in comparison to her constant terror, and she always looked left or right before leaving a place.

She was terrified since she was out in the open, vulnerable to Darius's adversaries.

She was still his mate, and she remembered the chatter she'd overheard from guards alike when she'd stayed in those prisons waiting to be sold. She was Darius's mate, and she was ready meat for all.

She knew how val
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