PREVIEW
... ashing waves, the distant cries of sea birds, the murmurs of the wind—all of it vanished. Only one sound remained, echoing through the wooden deck.
Bryelle’s blood.
Her little sister’s blood.
Bryelle’s once-bright eyes were half-lidded, unfocused, her lips parted as if she had something to say—but the words never came. They never would.
Lykhor yanked his sword from her chest, the slick steel sliding free with a squelch. Bryelle collapsed, her fragile body crumplin ...
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