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... eading across his body. His limbs felt heavy, his wounds sore, but not unbearable.
The second thing he noticed was warmth—far too much warmth for where he thought he should be.
The last memory he had was of snow, blood, and steel clashing in a battlefield that had turned into a slaughterhouse.
Slowly, his senses stirred, and instinct urged him not to move.
He kept his eyes shut, his breathing shallow, pretending to still be unconscious.
If he had been take ...
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