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... ission, heard the sound of footsteps at the other end of the hall.

He sighed without turning to look at the source, already knowing who it was.

"You're not coming."

"I am."

It was a woman's voice.

A familiar one.

Safira's.

"I beg to differ."

Malik turned, pulling his hood over his head.

"It's better if I'm alone."

...

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He smirked, nodding in satisfaction before he pressed his nail on the tip of my forefinger that was quick to produce a drop of blood. “Such sweet aroma.” He whispered, placing my bleeding finger in his mouth and licked it with passion.

His menacing gaze never left mine as he consumed a bit of my blood. “Does that mean you’re accepting my invitation?” Keeping my finger in between his fangs, Samael inquired.

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