The Distant Affair
The root was warm. That was the first thing Elias Thorne noted, his fingers trembling as he held the *Lunaria* stem against the sterile white counter of his apothecary. It pulsed with a faint, bioluminescent heat, a rhythm that matched the erratic thumping of his own heart. Across the room, Mara lay on the cot, her skin taking on a grayish translucence that made the blue veins beneath look like...
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