Chapter 50 Blood of the Chosen

Seraphine’s hand curled into a fist, the skin white around the knuckles. Torchlight painted her palm the color of old blood. She whispered names like rosary beads, each one a small, private prayer she did not trust to the air. “Not Ravenna. Not Nyx. Never.”

Luca stepped closer, his shadow swallowin...

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