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... , but somebody called it night anyway.
We slept in shifts—if you could call lying still with one eye open sleep. I spent most of it inside the forge dimension, hands busy so the brain wouldn’t replay Lucien’s smile on loop.
Jax snored somewhere outside the shimmer wall, sounding like a landslide with asthma. Hana dozed against a pillar, her shawl spread out like a cocoon pulsing soft blue—monitoring us, or maybe dreaming for us.
The Darkharness peeled itself off my chest ...
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