9 | Dasher

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The blonde wolf made me want to bash his fucking teeth in—Jagger, I remembered Eden calling him—but this dark-haired fucker stroke a nerve in me. I wanted him to kill him for disrespecting me, for challenging me.

All shit I had never cared about before.

The second he had walked in the door and ignored me, my temper had sparked. Something in me had wanted to yell at him, to make him listen to me. To force him to look me in my fucking eyes when he greeted me.

Then he started goddamn talking, and I couldn't handle it. The taunting, the poking and prodding at Eden.

They're mine, I thought, and he had called them 'bitches.' "Don't speak about them like that," I growled, stepping forward, ready to hit him again.

I hadn't hit anyone before. Never even been in a fight.

Fynley stood up, his fists clenched. Blood had already collected around his nose as he charged at me.

Calla screamed.

I stood where I was, met him, and we fought.

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