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Summary
At sixteen, when Charles caught Max’s scent for the first time, he had run away. Max had cried, then reminded himself that it didn’t matter.
He didn’t care about the gaze of alphas, and besides, he wasn’t really an omega anymore—too much discipline, too many suppressants. Omegas weren’t fast enough, and to win, you had to be fast. To be loved, you had to win.And all Max wanted was to be loved.
