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... th the boys. I opened my room and slid of out of my clothes and into the dress. I stared at my body in the mirror while my phone buzzed, my eyes trained on a small scar right along my collar bone. My mother had seen my eyes that had glowed as my wolf tried to come out, one of the many times she had grown sick of the way we were treated. She guzzled whatever was left in her whiskey bottle and broke it across my skin, and kept crunching the grass into my skin until I was on the ground and bleeding ...
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