My Prey. I Tear It Myself

Chloe's POV

BANG!

The wrought-iron gate of the Packhouse's rear garden was kicked open with brute force.

I was standing at the black tulip bed, a pair of gardening shears in my hand. The blades paused against my fingertips with a small, clean click. I didn't look up—I'd already caught the reek ...

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