PREVIEW

... coils smacked the ground one after another with more weight and heft than a whip that size should have. Rhys faced him in an approximation of the Empire’s stiff sword form, based on foggy three-year-old memories of the one time he and Laurent had fought. Hopefully Laurent’s form was standard, because if he’d made any variations, then Rhys would be making them too. Not that Laurent struck him as the type to do anything but standard form. He probably worshipped standard form, to be honest. The guy ...

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