Chapter Eighty-Three - The Confrontation

Eira stood frozen in the doorway, fingers curled into fists at her sides. The air in Caius’s quarters hung heavy, cloying with the scent of betrayal. Her heart thundered, but her voice, when it came, was venom.

"Get up, you whore."

Cass stirred beneath the sheets, the motion slow, lazy—oblivious. ...

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