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“I want it gone now.” Bachira’s lips curled, taking interest in how stricken Isagi’s face seemed. He wouldn’t take it as an answer, not when the scents were still shoved in front of his face. “I—”
“Then scent me, Bachira.”
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Bachira hated the smell of other alphas on Isagi, so he took it to himself to scent and mark him as his.
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