The Wistful Witness
"Stop, boy, you’ll only get us both killed." The voice belonged to Rosa Almeida, though it sounded like it was coming from the other end of a long, empty corridor. She was on her knees in the narrow stone passage of the fortress, her body a tangled knot of wool and blood, while the wolf pressed its weight against her shoulder. The beast’s breath was hot, a wet rasp against her neck, and the...
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