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Chapter 27: Rising Tensions
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Chapter 29: Forming a Plan
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... ed scamper," like a herd of drunken chickens trying to cross a highway.
My boots slapped the stone, my skirt flew up with every other step, and Dregan’s laughter boomed behind me like a battle hymn composed entirely of obscenities.
Freya, who had apparently decided that "armor" was just a synonym for "whatever keeps my tits from causing fatalities," was clothed now—or at least, something close enough to pass the censors.
A ragged prison tunic clung to her frame, the neckl ...
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