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Zara flinched, one arm instinctively wrapping around Leo, the other reaching for Winter, who sagged against the wall. The smell of smoke and blood—thick, suffocating—rushed in with them.
Civilians scattered like frightened birds, some throwing their arms over their heads, others pressing themselves into the walls, their eyes wide and panicked. A few remained frozen, staring at the soldiers as though they were nothing more than ghosts.
Harlow and his men didn’t lower the ...
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