Mel

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Only my march through the Catacombs was not so alone as I thought. I sensed it all in rapid succession: rock sliding underfoot, a chill in the dead air, my mark shuddering meekly, skin crawling, and the slippery muffle of a heartbeat, brushing against my consciousness.
I Feed Her to the Beast and the Beast Is Me (I Feed Her to the Beast, #1)
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