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Chapter 331 ALPHAS AREN’T CUTE
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Chapter 333 A FUCKING FIRE
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... rt stone steps and into the cabin, the door creaking softly as he pushed it open ahead of me.
Warmth wrapped around me as soon as I stepped inside, lingering in the wooden walls and the low glow of the lamps. The cabin was open but felt intimate, the living space flowing easily into a small kitchenette, all wood and stone softened by use rather than polish.
A couch sat near the hearth with a throw draped over one arm, and the faint scent of cedar and old firewood hung in the air. ...
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