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... er, a snarl that twisted her guts—and her foot tapped the floor, a slow, deliberate rhythm against the cold tiles, the only sound she’d allow herself to make.

She swore it then, silent but fierce: Next time I see him, he’s dead.

Powers or not, I’ll snap his neck, crush his throat, watch his eyes go dark. The thought pulsed hot, her hatred for heroes flaring brighter—Kael just another smug face in a long line she’d vowed to erase.

But she stayed still, back straight, expre ...

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