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... ever dream. Every time Sera pulled an arrow from her quiver, nocked, and pulled, I braced myself, waiting for the inevitable explosion of anger and brutality.

Thump.

King Gil’s head panned downward slowly as he examined the fresh arrow lodged in his bicep. He flexed experimentally, seeming to find it amusing when the shaft dislodged on its own and clattered to the wooden floorboards, wound oozing blood.

As she had the last five times, Maya approached from the side and pre ...

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