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She wasn't sure why she felt the need to tell Jazper of her current goings-on. Little Azazel was tucked in her arms, barely a few weeks old. He was completely gray with bright yellow eyes - the eyes were reminiscent of his father's, as well as the two fangs that poked out from his upper lip. Without knowing who the father was already, however, the pup was indistinguishable. The only thing that tied him to her was the unmistakably familiar scent of Skye.
She stood at the borders, her brows furrowed and her eyes staring straight ahead. She had howled several moments ago, and now she waited - the look on her face was that of someone who was extremely pissed off. It was true. She had never wanted Azazel Collins to exist, but he did now, and she would care for him just as she had for her other pups. And although she was perfectly fine with concealing the Trader's Guild and other "immoral" activities from Jazper, she felt as though this were something he should know.
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