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Hundred and twenty

ZEVRAN ILVANE POV

I wiped the blood off my hand, my jaw clenching as I stared at the mess on the ground.

The man's body lay twisted, his lifeless eyes still wide with the kind of shock that always came too late.

I scoffed, my nose wrinkling as the metallic scent of blood crawled into my throat.

If he'd been so desperate to live, he shouldn't have tried to kill me the first chance he got.

"Fucking amateur."

I looked down at my shirt, the dark stains already drying. I cussed under my ...

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