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... e. Rhett’s feet pounded across wet leaves and twisted roots, his breath visible in the freezing air. The cracked moon, still crimson and fractured like stained glass, glowed faintly behind a thick fog curling over the cliffs.

He saw her silhouette stumbling ahead, barefoot, blood streaked down one thigh, her hair wild and tangled with moss and ash.

"Don’t, follow, me!" she yelled without turning back.

But Rhett didn’t stop.

He’d followed her through warzones. Thro ...

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