made by Thetis’ talons so that she could move her wings freely. Blood stains turned the color of the green material black.
A sniffle, a frightened moan, a nasty cough. The children. She was standing close by them, too close, practically admitting what she’d just done. Their werewolf guard was returning. One, a tall woman with auburn hair tied in a braid, had already taken up her post again, and she eyed Melanie curiously.
Melanie rushed into the subdued mottle of elves. Those she had freed were back in new chains, fingers bent at odd angles, a few with jaws swollen and slack, their shrieks of anguish reduced to shakes and low, tremulous moans. A...
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