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78

Adrian's POV

I woke up to the harsh scrape of chains against stone, the kind of sound you'd expect to hear in a forgotten dungeon beneath some medieval castle, not in a modern packhouse. But here I was, manacled and lying on cold, damp stone.

I could feel it the moment I regained full consciousness, the familiar, disorienting pressure in my chest. The wolf. He was there, pacing around inside me, growling low and angry. But I wasn't going to let him out—not yet. If I did, he'd go on a rampage and the first person he'd go looking for was Mason.m.

That bastard had done it. He had actually drugged me. Slipped something into my drink at that damn family gathering, just to watch me lose control. To watch me tear apart the pack, to make me look like the monster he knew I could become. He knew how much the wolf inside me could be triggered. He knew how much power I held in my blood, and he'd used that knowledge against me.