Chapter 29 Drunk Alpha

Aelira’s POV

The reek of wolf–whiskey slams into me, thick and noxious, turning my stomach. Alarion sways drunkenly, his usually sharp amber gaze dulled and glassy as he staggers toward me.

“Aelira,” he slurs, arms snaking around me with a strength at odds with his unsteady frame. His grip tight...

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