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... y quiet, the kind of stillness that made the ticking of the clock seem deafening.

Evanthe, Zoey, Sigrid, and Elin sat in the living room, their faces clouded with worry and frustration. Each of them bore the weight of their circumstances differently—anger, fear, sorrow, and defiance mingling in their expressions. The fine silk gowns they wore, forced on them by Alaric, felt more like chains than garments, a cruel reminder of their captivity and the twisted desires of their captor.

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