walk-in closet. It was larger t
el, Dior. They were trophies, not clothes. Kason had bought them to drape o
ored th
a battered canvas duffel bag. It was a relic from Elease's past, a bag she'd packed for a camping trip
t the frame with his arms crossed. He was wat
e trash bag?" he
two plain black t-shirts and a pair of jeans. She folded
elvet jewelry box o
onds stay. They belong to
ce glittered under the recessed lightin
sed it co
ver locket nestled in the corner of the box. It
o of a woman with kind eyes stare
ocket shut and shove
scuffed and old, but inside, the hardware had been modified. The dormant Phoenix persona had guided her hands
he bag and zipped it up. T
son. She was wea
ound," s
all before, Elease. The scars don't
. She simply stripp
om the fire five years ago. They were older, a horrifying latticework of pale, raised lines-some surgical, some clearly from burns and shrapnel, a ma
d leggings. She slipped her fee
ked up
on didn't move. He blocked her
e was louder now, edged with frustration. "You think thi
ooked up
science, Kason," she
ion, a subtle shift of weight that allowed
rabbed her arm. His gri
ur," he hissed. "Don't be lurkin
culated the angle of his wrist, the pressure point on his thumb. She could break his wrist in two secon
er voice dropped an o
hat Kason released her instantly. He stepped back,
s, jagged sound. "Yo
it," Eleas
ay. Her footsteps were si
e wall. Kason looked like a prince. Elease was
pa
thinking she was ha
turned the frame face d
shui," she
the heavy
a cent!" Kason yelled from the hallway
r slamm
l. It was the soun
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