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... orching heat of the void or the cold silence of the woods where I’d passed out, but real warmth—soft blankets, a plush mattress, the scent of lemon soap and fresh linen. I blinked groggily, eyes squinting against the golden afternoon light spilling through the half-drawn curtains.
I was back in Zane’s house.
I knew this room. The guest room tucked on the second floor. My heart pounded as I sat up slowly, my joints cracking with the effort. No pain. No weakness. In fact... I felt ...
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