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Thor
ies. Snow, cold and biting. The glint of yellow eyes in the darkness. The sound of tearing flesh-my flesh. The last thing I
snappe
It was a scent I knew better than my own. I was lying on a hard, lump
rieked from outside the door. "The sun's high in t
My mothe
esence that had been a faint whisper for a decade, let out a lo
ak, frail. I caught my reflection in a cracked piece of mirror hang
years ago.
ke. Astrid stood there, her face pinched with disgust as she saw me awake
y to shove me out of the bed as she had d
ot out like a viper, clam
in shock. The pain made her wince
ng up, and with every ounce of strength my weak
deafening crack in the
emed to
e skin. Her mouth hung open in disbelief. She had never imagined, not
the room, drawn by the noise. He froze in the
creeching rage. "You bitch! You dare h
ward to pull his grandmother away, a peacemake
d to him. "Magnus," I said, my voice a
There was only the chilling finality of a graveyard, a cold, unshakeable resolve. His own
rid went berserk. She lunged at m
ehind her back, slamming her against the wall. I leaned in close, m
to the floor, a whimperin
on my son. "Take her to the woodshed," I comma
lickering between his cowering grandmoth
striking the deep, unspoken longing in his heart. He had al
made. He walked over and hauled th
to pleas, but Magnus didn't say a word
legs threatening to give out. My body was still weak, but for
hind him. He looked at me, his expression a mixture of fear
ey were steady and hard. "The Elara you knew is dead.
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