RA
's voice, raw with panic, drifted back from the restaurant
never be as imp
ace a mask of horror. The pain in my legs, the agony in my soul-it all
, clean scent of medicinal herbs filled the air. Kaelen w
er, an old, wise she-wolf named Morwen.
lpated my abdomen, her brow furrowed. She glanced at me, a question i
mind-link. "Please. I want
w, almost impe
Morwen didn't use any numbing herbs. She cleaned the burns with a silver-infused salve that felt like fire be
hand hovering over mine. "I'm s
I whispered, my voice h
ned. He had no
shed voices. Lyra was there, her scen
was saying, her voice soft with conce
ne was filled with a boyish pleasure at
have his own minor injury
er expression a mixture of guilt and curiosity. "Did
I didn't hear a thing," I lied. "I must have a
oked r
alls, to wear my mask, to play their game. M
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