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... the distorted whispers of foreign Magic pressing at their minds. The air stank of burning stone and poisoned Magic energy. But what struck Eccar more was the glimmer in Erend's eyes. That familiar dangerous light.

It was the light of bloodlust, of the Rage.

Eccar saw it and knew the same fire burned in his own gaze.

"What about the Rage?" he asked quietly, not accusing—just reminding.

Erend blinked slowly, as if only now realizing the weight of what they were abo ...

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