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... t at dawn. Mist clung to the training grounds, curling around weapon racks and stone tiles, and the air carried a faint tang of dew and iron.
Klein stood at the center of the field, his black coat fluttering softly. In his hand, Whisperfang gleamed faintly under the pale light.
Lucien paced before him, hands behind his back, posture regal, eyes half-lidded in the way only masters and eccentrics could manage.
"Before we begin," Lucien said gravely, "you must understand wha ...
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