But Dexter was already geared up, his firearm held firmly. His gaze conveyed a fierce resolve and unyielding determination.

“If I can’t face this fear, how can I call myself a father?” Dexter’s words cut through the tension.

Without further ado, he rose and marched toward the area with fewer wolves. The group could only watch, gripped by apprehension.

Today, facing the danger threatening his own daughter, Dexter finally knew what it was like to love a child. Urgency and worry surged within him; the mere thought of harm befalling his child filled him with an unbearable dread. He wouldn’t want to live either if anything were to happen to her.

Proficient in combat, Dexter was swift and agile. With a deft motion, he seized the leg of an attacking wolf and hurled it aside, outpacing the beast. His other leg swept low, tripping another wolf, its mournful howl piercing the air with a haunting echo.

Yet, the sound drew the attention of the other wolves, their eyes gleaming with bloodthirsty anticipation as they closed in on Dexter.

Dexter narrowed his eyes. His bodyguards positioned nearby braced themselves, ready to unleash a barrage of bullets.

closer to the dilapidated house with determination

his strength waned, a wolf that had been lurking nearby lunged at him from behind. Larry and the others watched in horror, their

head with precision, sending it

hunger and weakness made it easy to

confrontation. He was near the house now, about to call out for Grape,

suffusing his heart

two possibilities: either Grape wasn’t there, or she had

sudden halt, Justin panicked. “What’s happening to

evident on Dexter’s face. “Maybe… he senses that something has

beneath him, causing him to collapse to the ground,

composure. Summoning the last reserves of his strength, he pushed open the door of the house. Inside,

expression turned grave as a sense of foreboding washed

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