PREVIEW

... lleys where the light didn’t reach and shadows proliferated, Rue Octave was sitting, his back against the smooth but cold wall.

His breathing was shallow and raspy, beads of sweat soaking his face and whole body in a worrying way.

His eyes were wide open, the color of his pupils changing between golden and golden. The two seemed alike, but the difference was all too apparent.

His hand was dripping with golden blood, coming from the corpse of Castria sprawled on the ground ...

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