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... s time. After this meeting, many people talked about the topic when they were free. They were known by more people as a laughing stock, and even passed to other hunters. The power of the regiment is because this team is not willing to go, the hundreds of people assigned, and finally only five people, can not be laughed at?

Whether it is the elite strategy that some people conjecture, or the so-called compliance with public opinion, in short, more people are not optimistic about this newly ...

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When trash becomes a genius—one word: Fierce! Two words: Two-faced! Three words: Too heaven defying!

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Peak level Profound Grade Armament, beyond priceless? Sorry to embarrass, but the bowl she uses to feed the cat is already at the God Grade….. she possessed a pair of eyes that could see through everything, yet she couldn’t see through—him!

Merely exposing his demonic smile, Prince Mou lightly loosened his belt: “Can’t see through? Do not fret, you can slowly view when you return to the room. I’ll allow you to scrupulously inspect from head to toe.”

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Elia is a poor university student until the night she’s taken to the world of the Anima—ruled by humans whose ancient hearts pulse with the blood of animals. There she’s forced into a battle to the death. But when Elia survives, and refuses to kill her final opponent, the King must either kill Elia himself, or take her as his mate.

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*****

He stalked towards her, chin low so the shadow cast by his hard jaw cut across the thick fur collar of his vest. His hair had fallen over his eyes in the scuffle, so he peered at her through it like a lion in the grass. With each step, his graceful, rolling gait reminded her of a predator stalking its prey. Despite the forest floor littered in twigs and leaves, he didn’t make a sound.

“Wh-who are you?” Elia stammered, backing away, her hands up. He met her step for step until she came up hard against the tree behind her—and didn’t stop until he loomed over her, so broad his shoulders and chest made a wall in front of her. She could feel the heat rising off his skin in the cool, night air.

“I am the Leonine King.” His voice was a dark, husky gravel. Behind him a chorus of wheezes, howls, and chirps of agreement rose from the people watching. “And you are?”

“Elia,” she breathed.

“Elia,” he growled, leaning in closer, bringing with him the scent of pine and rain and the musk of something distinctly male. “I am Reth.” He said the name with a strange, guttural roll in his throat. “I am King of Beasts. I am Clan Leader, and I am Alpha of WildWood.” Several snarls rose from the crowds behind him then, but he ignored them.

Elia swallowed as he leaned in until the scruff on his jaw rasped her cheek. “I am the King,” he said, “And you will be my mate.”

The forest behind him erupted.