Chapter Sixty Four

Nora's P.O.V

I landed hard.

Not on dirt. Not on stone. The ground beneath me was soft—like moss, but warmer. It pulsed faintly under my palms as I pushed up, breath catching in my throat.

The sky above was wrong.

Green.

Not the green of forests or grass, but of flame—pale, luminous, pulsing lik...

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