The Pale Shadows
The air in the Great Hall of Oakhaven hung thick with the scent of tallow and unwashed bodies, a suffocating mixture that coated the back of Elias Thorne’s throat as he stared down at the woman bound to the iron chair before him. Elias was thirty years old, though the hollows under his eyes and the premature gray threading his beard made him appear a decade older, a man worn down by the...
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