Chapter 11
Chapter 11
The Inquisitor and the Shadow Wolf
The Consecrated Brand hovered between us, its white-hot tip radiating a shimmering distortional heat that scorched the eyelashes on my face. I did not reach for it. My hands stayed pinned to my sides, my fingers curled into white-knuckled fists so tight that the leather of my gloves groaned under the strain.
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