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... n, hinges whispering as he stepped in, coin flipping lazily between his fingers. She sat cross-legged on the cot, crimson hair yanked into a messy knot, ash streaks clinging to the strands. The collar gleamed dull around her neck, but her amber eyes met his—steady, edged with something new, less defiance, more intent.

He grinned, leaning against the frame. "You're different today," he said, voice low, teasing the charged air between them as the coin arced.

Rhea shrugged, leather ...

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