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... er on my tongue. "That thing standing there isn’t Velra anymore."
Amelia’s grip tightened on her staff. "Then what is it?"
The firelight reflected in her wide eyes—orange and gold, flickering with fear. I didn’t answer. Because the truth was worse than anything she could imagine.
Velra moved.
No, twitched.
A sharp, unnatural motion—like a puppet yanked by tangled strings. Her head tilted to one side, neck cracking with an awful sound, and the flames that s ...
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