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... uum of sound, a deafening absence—the moment after a scream that never finished. Rowan stood frozen, panting hard, his pulse thundering in his ears like it was trying to shatter through bone. His hands trembled, coated in ash and blood that wasn't his. The echo of the last rift pulse still rang through his teeth.

Lucian was gone.

Taken.

Not slain, not fallen, but taken—dragged through the collapsing breach by a figure that wore his face, or nearly didn't, and bore his res ...

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