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... rough his eyelids, orange light filtered and danced, accompanied by an incessant buzzing. The foul stench hit him next, making his saliva thicken in his throat. He shifted, uncomfortable against whatever supported his arm.

Memory returned in fragments. Someone had taken him—interfered when everything had been perfect. His jaw clenched. Damned meddler.

Pain gripped his hips as he tried to rise. Then hands steadied his shoulders, the touch bringing both relief and revulsion. He ope ...

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