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... voices.

The air was thick—a miasma of incense, decay, and something far older.

The candles burned lower, their wax pooling like blood upon the altar.

Seraphine stood motionless, her breathing shallow.

The hunger was growing.

It gnawed at her insides, whispering temptations she couldn’t yet decipher.

Selene Nocturna watched her with quiet amusement.

Her golden eyes gleamed, reflecting the candlelight like a serpent poised to strike.

...

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