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I marked Bria Benton last night. Staring up at the ceiling with Bria tucked under my arm, I blew out a breath and let reality sink in. I had waited my whole life—for forty-three damn years—to find my mate. Now, she was finally here with me, where she belonged. But in the next few weeks, Bria would become more animalistic, would grow canines and claws, ache for her belly to be swollen with pups, like all she-wolves did once they found their mates. And, f**k … Bria shifted in my arms, her head falling back against the pillow over the crook of my elbow and her lips parted slightly. The blankets covered her nearly naked body, but boy, did I want to rip them off of her and take her. Like all alphas, I wanted pups as soon as possible. I wanted my family lineage to continue. Our sons and daug