Hunt had no idea what to say, what to do as everything in his life swirled and diluted, his heartbeat ratcheting up to a thunderous beat. “I—I don’t …” “Start talking,” Bryce snapped at Apollion, scooting her chair an inch or two closer to Hunt’s. Not from fear, Hunt knew—but from solidarity. It settled something in him, soothed a jagged edge. “Hunt’s mother was an angel.” His mother’s loving, tired face flashed before Hunt’s eyes, twisting his heart. “She was,” Apollion said, and the way he smiled … White rage blinded every one of Hunt’s senses. “Did you dare—” “She was not ill used,” Aidas
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