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75. Twisted sense of hope

75:

Silvan’s POV

As Isla disappeared from sight, my heart twisted with bitterness and anger. Emotions bubbled within me like a simmering cauldron. I watched her retreating form with a mixture of longing and resentment. My mind was clouded with obsessive and possessive thoughts fueled by the rejection I had just endured.

The audacity of that little girl…rejecting me, not once, not twice, but three times in one day alone. I sneered as I walked home.

A dark impulse gnawed at the edges of my consciousness, whispering sinister suggestions into my ear.

My wolf seemed to like the ideas. He reasoned that if Isla did not belong to me, then she should belong to no one. Isla's blood would serve a higher purpose; after all, my pack needed her blood to wash away our sins, and she would serve that purpose perfectly.

The notion sent a shiver down my spine, but I could not shake the twisted satisfaction that accompanied it. I imagined Isla's blood staining the forest floor, a macabre offering
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