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Each step felt like a drumbeat.

She reached the small room where Alaric still lay curled under a thin blanket, his brow furrowed, his mouth parted. Even in sleep, there was strain in his jaw, a tightness around his eyes. He was fighting something even in dreams.

She sat beside him, brushing her hand against his temple. He stirred at last, eyes fluttering open,red-flecked and shadowed. He frowned.

"Good morning," she whispered, leaning down to press her lips to his br ...

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