Chapter 83 — Porcelain and Fire

Amara

My eyes flicker open.

The light is dim, thin and hazy — morning or dusk, I can’t tell. My head throbs, the world tilts, and a strange mix of scents hit my nose: smoke, cedar, and the familiar tang of Killian’s cologne.

Laughter drifts from somewhere beyond the door — men’s voices, casual...

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