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...

Thales also resisted his nausea and tried to stay away from that big pool of filth.


Well, half-digested steak—damn, why did he think about that!


Just like that, in the messy filth and pungent smell, Thales and Hillary, the weak two, were sitting on the ground against the wall, back to back, each trembling.


"Don't worry, I will add some money to the owner for the cleaning fee."


"Is this the key? Ah, my clothes..."


"They're not yours, they ...

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He stalked towards her, chin low so the shadow cast by his hard jaw cut across the thick fur collar of his vest. His hair had fallen over his eyes in the scuffle, so he peered at her through it like a lion in the grass. With each step, his graceful, rolling gait reminded her of a predator stalking its prey. Despite the forest floor littered in twigs and leaves, he didn’t make a sound.

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“I am the Leonine King.” His voice was a dark, husky gravel. Behind him a chorus of wheezes, howls, and chirps of agreement rose from the people watching. “And you are?”

“Elia,” she breathed.

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