Like an earthquake, Jassyn’s body expelled a tremor at the memory. In her chamber of perverse horrors, Farine instructed him to stand there, unclothed on a pedestal, while the elves marveled at his anatomy and human complexion. Like they’d never laid eyes on an elven-blooded in the past century. Or engaged in similar events. Farine told him he should be flattered for being so desired and fetching a price so high—no other half-breed was as coveted as him. And then she promised she’d make him pay for it later. From the furrows of nail marks down his chest and across his back, and the chunks of
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