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... a flicker of frustration. Rhea’s voice still rang in his ears—sharp, defiant—her fists pounding the air as she’d stormed back toward Freya’s room moments ago, hellbent on reopening the fight.

He’d grabbed her arm, dragging her kicking and cursing to her own room, the door slamming shut despite her yells—"Let me at her, you bastard!"—echoing down the hall. Now, silence hung heavy, broken only by the faint hum of Freya’s collar behind her door and Rhea’s muffled snarls from hers.

K ...

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