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... nts of the sky, but from the beating wings of something alive.

I narrowed my eyes.

There, hovering in a tight formation, were winged figures—humanoid in shape but in no way human. Harpies, and it was six of them.

Their upper bodies were distinctly feminine, with pale blue-gray skin stretched taut over lean muscle, each movement of their arms blending seamlessly into wings of feathered grace. Their faces were fierce, angular, with slanted crimson eyes that glowed faintly w ...

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