Chapter 211 The Gift
Elijah
Hotel rooms always felt the same to me: sterile, impersonal, and far too quiet. This one was nicer than most—the pack I was visiting had surprisingly put me up in their territory’s best accommodations despite our trade disagreement—but it still felt wrong. The bed was too soft, the air conditioning was too cold and I couldn’t figure out how to fucking turn it off for the life of me, and most importantly, Agnes wasn’t here.
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