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Chapter 4: Lavender
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Chapter 6: Disgust
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... ing toward the end of the bed.
The omega flinches—barely, but enough. Like he’s bracing for a slap instead of a drink.
My stomach twists.
Slowly, carefully, I pick up the glass bottle I’d left on the bedside table. Condensation beads along the sides, cold against my palm. I twist the cap off with a quiet crack and crouch, holding it out so he can see every move.
He stares at me.
I don’t blame him. His eyes are the wide, watchful kind of like he’s waiting f ...
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