“What the hell?” Tin demanded. One of Crow’s hands dug into his hair, grinding Tin’s cheek into the rough edge of the broken glass. The iron prevented it from gouging his face in half while the kelpie scales on his clothing stopped the sharp points of Crow’s talons from digging into his ribs. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t gut you right here,” Crow growled. Tin gripped the edge of the case and attempted to throw himself backward to gain the upper hand. Crow’s talons only shifted higher. “What are you doing?” Tin roared. The movement scratched his bottom lip on a jagged edge. “Let me up,
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