Desperation and not a small amount of panic had Soren pounding on the door of Quinn’s apartment at ten-thirty in the evening. He was sweating under the softest pair of pants he owned, and his shirt felt like it was slowly strangling him. The plans that he’d had for Quinn to come over to his house the next morning was gone, replaced by the need to have the alpha wrap his arms around him and never let go.
There was no answer at the door.
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