Chapter 8 XX

Emmanuel Maduabuchi Titus 1.4k words

Hudson’s jaw rippled as he stepped back, a low, guttural snarl vibrating in his chest.

Avery couldn't move. The room spun in a blur of grey stone and flickering torchlight. She reached blindly for the napkins on the mahogany table, her fingers fumbling as the sickness clawed at her throat.

Hudson didn’t...

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