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♱ Chapter • 58 ♱

♱ •⋅ 1750 B.C. ⋅• ♱ •⋅ Calisto ⋅• ♱

Asra had simply gone to her palace taking the child they called a saint with her.

"Still worried?" Azrael asked me about the plaster pile.

"No."

I lied.

"Of course..." he snorted and crossed his arms over his chest as Loren ran ahead of us, in his little hands wer...

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