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... with ward-thread soaked in glyphs that glowed faintly when touched.

Elaris tied them herself—gentle, practiced—checking each knot twice before standing.

She didn't speak. But when she finished, she glanced at Rein.

Not for approval.

For reassurance.

As if she needed to know he was still watching her.

Iris sat against a tilted slab of stone, face pale, lips cracked. Her red veil had torn in the struggle, revealing a sharp mouth and high cheekbones. ...

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