Bound to the Enemy’s Bed

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Chapter 172

I did not scream when the Gate breathed.

I felt it.

Not as sound, not as wind—but as recognition.

The moment stretched thin, taut as a vein pulled too far. The false-Draven stood at the threshold where the hollow bled into the world-that-was, his silhouette cut from radiance and ruin. Light poure...

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