PREVIEW

... y, hunched over and seething, one clawed hand on his spine like a three-hundred-year-old chiropractor just told him "it’s arthritis again."

But then—

The silhouette behind him grew.

Ezgar’s eyes widened.

Finn’s mind completely flatlined.

Because flying above, wings flapping with divine majesty, was...

a pig.

Not a monster pig. Not a demon pig.

A normal-ass farm pig—except with pure white, feathery angel wings.

It glowed soft ...

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