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... spent quietly bleeding beneath the surface.

He wanted her. Not in the distant, aching way he had yearned while imprisoned in stone-silence and centuries of sleep, but with a living, breathing hunger that roared through him like wildfire. His heart, his ancient, wearied, and starved heart, filled with a greed that startled even him.

He was a demigod. A being carved from flame and divinity. Who, truly, was left in existence with the power to stop him? And what was greed to a demigo ...

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