Chapter 25 The Cost of Survival 2

LARISSA 

The dream was jagged—fragments and flickers stitched together with shadows. 

I was kneeling again, head bowed, wrists chained to the cold marble of my father's throne room. The scent of incense stung my nostrils, but it couldn’t mask the sting of humiliation.

“Disobedience will not be tol...

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