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Lucien jolted upright in bed, just as the silver blade came down.
It all happened in a blur.
The masked figure was fast, dressed in black from head to toe, but Lucien was faster. His hand shot up and caught the attacker’s wrist a split second before the blade could plunge into his chest. The knife still grazed him, slicing through his skin.
The masked man didn’t stick around.
Emerald’s scream had ruined the element of surprise. With a low, guttural sna ...
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