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... but with the sharp clang of steel, the hiss of flame, and the moans of fire-forged pleasure echoing between stone and sky.
The Crimson Sect had come.
Rivan stood at the front lines, bare-chested, his sigils glowing in rhythmic pulses along his arms and chest. His war cloak billowed behind him, made of enchanted threads from Seraxa's flame-bindings, each one humming with sexual energy.
Behind him, the Temple Warriors stood ready.
Kaela and Myra, armored but open a ...
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