PREVIEW

... lace slept.

It was the kind of night that cradled the soul—soft breezes, moonlight pooling on marble floors, and a hush that made even time itself slow down.

But not everyone was asleep.

Azrael Jr. lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The moonlight cast silvery lines across his face. Across the room, Caelan turned over with a grumble, mumbling something about sword formations and spicy soup.

Azrael smirked. "He dreams of battle and lunch."

He rolled out of ...

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