PREVIEW
... e to the Warlord’s sternum were superheated, glowing a dull, angry orange.
I did not hesitate. I reached out with my bare right hand and grabbed the scalding metal.
The heat instantly seared my palm. The smell of burning flesh—my flesh—curled into the stagnant, bloody air of the VIP suite. I locked my jaw, ignoring the pain signaling from my eighteen-year-old nervous system. The Sovereign Law burning beneath my skin reinforced the bones in my hand, turning my grip into a hydrauli ...
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