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... ead already, torn apart by hounds. The rest huddled together behind Kael Arathis, chanting his name like he was Moses parting the sea.

And me?

I was busy trying not to throw up.

My hand trembled around the pen-dagger, its faint glow barely visible beneath the blood soaking the blade. Every swing was sloppy. Every stab a gamble.

And yet... I was still alive.

That had to count for something. Right?

Kael surged forward, smashing another wolf ...

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