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The Confrontation

Saige's [POV]

A finger glides along my right cheek, my jaw, and my chin. The touch is so gentle, so light that I know it can't be Rylan or any of his pack. A hand angles my head a little up and to the right, pulling on the wounds in my neck.

I whimper.

The hand releases me.

It hurts too much to move, so I don't. I wait for the pain to release its grip on me. If it ever will.

Pressure eases on my right wrist. After a soft snick, I slowly tip over. That's when I remember the bite, the pain, ...

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