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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