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... e still working while you lot get cozy," a soldier grumbled, poking their head into the tent. "Don’t get too comfortable."

Zara stiffened at the intrusion, turning to glare at the soldier poking his head through the tent flap. His tone was gruff, but there was no real malice—just irritation laced with exhaustion.

Winter exhaled sharply, his hand flexing where it rested against Zara’s forearm. The moment of peace they’d stolen, rare and fragile, was shattered.

Zara forced ...

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