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... /p>

I sat beside Yvette on the stone bench, beneath the shadow of the Jennings family's great blood-orange flame tree. The air was still, yet it carried the distant echo of cosmic tremors—Samuel's doing, no doubt. I could feel it in the marrow of my bones.

Yvette, regal and composed, her crimson hair glowing faintly with the divine spark of her bloodline, leaned back and looked up at the night sky. She had no words, but I could tell she felt it too—the shift. The world wasn't the same ...

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