elizabethbailey. She dragged the broken bottle across her carotid artery, creating an inch-deep gash upon her throat. ’ The familiar hollow opened up inside Melusine’s chest, and she could not prevent the husky note that entered her voice. The cold air gave her gooseflesh under her red brocade dress as she slipped outside. I couldn’t rest or eat or sleep. I made a wrong choice, it seems—but my voice remains. We’ll make short work of them.
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