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... d howled through the bone-white trees as Lucian knelt in the white sand, his fingers locked around Isabella’s throat.

Every time he increased the pressure on her windpipe, a jagged spike of agony ripped through his own neck.

It was a mirror of suffering, his own airway felt like it was being crushed by invisible hands but he kept squeezing.

He wanted to kill her. He wanted to end the bond that was making his ancient, cold blood boil with a fever he couldn’t control.

< ...

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