PREVIEW
... as if the air itself is holding its breath in expectation of judgment was that living, or merely a delay until the next blow? I woke in the tangled midst of the royal nursery, a twin under each arm, all three of us sleep-mussed and clutching to the shreds of a nightmare that still had teeth. Sunlight struggled through creaked shutters, hesitant to rejoice or be silent.
I lay there for a moment, breathing in Aeris’s apple-scented hair, Arion’s thumb clenched tightly over his lips, and th ...
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