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... e, then I was wrong. Completely wrong.

Because I fought, thrashed, scratched at his skin and did everything known in the book just to make him drop me; but all my attempts were fruitless. Bland.

It felt like I was fighting against a stone wall, and instead of letting me go, he held on tighter, his fingers digging into my skin as he marched the rest of the way to his car.

"Zevran! This isn’t funny! Let me go!" I yelled angrily, kicking, but instead of responding, or doing ...

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