~Zaria~

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The heat wants to win.

It claws at my spine, coils around my lungs, slicks my skin until every breath tastes like molten silver. It’s primal. Loud. Needy. A command carved into my bloodline.

But it’s not me.

Not anymore.

Because I’m not some trembling Omega born to rut and whimper at a dominant’s feet.

I’m the one they lock the doors against.

And right now, I’m pacing inside the Black Hall barefoot, half-naked, a ...