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The Alpha's Hybrid Claim
Forty-eight hours before the Omega Conclave seals the fate of every hybrid alive, you are dragged through the Ironveil Compound's iron gates and thrown into the one room you were never supposed to enter. Kael Duskmore — seven feet of glowing grey eyes and barely-leashed power — turns from the war table and looks at you like you are the answer to a question he has been asking for years. The doors lock behind you, the scent-suppressant fog cuts off, and the compound's alarm system goes silent — because he told it to.
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