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... his chest and rippled through his limbs like fire under his skin.
The second thing was laughter.
Not his own.
It echoed around him, a cold, mocking sound that made his blood run cold. It was familiar, but he couldn't place it. His eyes flew open, and he blinked against a golden light. The sky above was vast and glowing, the clouds streaked in hues of crimson and violet like a painting dipped in magic.
He wasn't on a road. Not in a hospital bed. Not even in the wre ...
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