LYRA. I tried to run, but my feet felt heavy as if rooted to the spot. The rogue's eyes gleamed with a feral intensity, their teeth bared in a snarl. I raised my hands, palms facing them, and summoned a weak burst of energy to defend myself. But he was too strong, too fast. He knocked my hands aside and pinned me against the wall, his claws digging into my shoulders. I struggled, kicking and squirming, but he was too strong. A fist slammed into my stomach, and I gasped for air. Another blow struck my head, and everything went blurry. I felt myself falling, but they caught me, holding me up with a cruel grip. I tried to fight back, but my body betrayed me. My limbs felt like lead, and my vision spun. A sharp pain seared through my side, and I knew I was in trouble. My wolf, Nyx growled weakly as I bit on my lower lip. “You bastard. I’d never be able to submit to you. You are not my mate, I refuse to accept you” I say in pain feigning confidence. Blake is a rogue who has
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