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I don’t like it. Those scars were linked with my memories of surviving. I went through so much, and nothing my father and his cronies did could break me. They hurt me, scarred me, damaged my body, but they couldn’t break me.
I press my fingers to my temples. Wolf said to charge the circle, which confirms my suspicions on why he was the one to summon Azazel. The blood ward was vital to the process, which is a problem because I don’t know how to charge my blood. I only know how to bleed.
“Mina.” The shock of him saying my name makes me tense. “Yes?” “You’re strong.” It’s such a random statement that I stare down at him blankly. “What?” “Don’t apologize for being strong.”
“Sometimes it happens like that. Close your eyes.” I obey, and he keeps speaking in that low, calm voice. “Envision your hands as they normally are. Not a claw or bit of fur in sight.” My eyes fly open. “I don’t have fur. He grins. “Now you don’t have claws, either.”

