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Chapter 47: Ch Wounds That Don’t Heal
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Chapter 49: Ch Chains And Carriages
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... d over the boy’s charred side, the skin split open like burning paper. The smell of ash and rot lingered, biting at his nose.
The apprentice at his side choked out another plea.
"Please, Saint! We don’t know what to do. Nothing we try works—"
"Don’t call me that," Luther snapped, his brows knitting together. His tone wasn’t loud, but sharp enough to make the girl flinch back.
He pressed his palm down. His magic surged—not carefully, not measured, just raw instinct ...
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