PREVIEW
... r—Rein slipped out of the sleeping chamber barefoot, clutching a short, serrated blade he'd stolen from a ceremonial fruit platter.
It wasn't much.
But it was sharp, and most importantly, his.
The crimson corridors of Asmodra's sanctuary curled endlessly like veins in a giant organ.
Every surface breathed—softly.
He could hear it now, after the wine's numbing effects faded.
A constant thrum.
Thump-t ...
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