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... o sleep?’ The Demon King’s voice was loud and incredulous, ringing in Damian’s head just as he was slipping into unconsciousness.

Damian sighed internally, half-annoyed, half-amused. ’Yeah, I did. What else was I supposed to do? Write you a bedtime story?’ His voice was thick with fatigue.

’You do realize that when you sleep, you come here, right?’ The Demon King pressed, his tone verging on exasperation.

’I know,’ Damian muttered aloud, keeping his voice low to avoid wak ...

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