SIERRAFootsteps echoed off the walls, sharp as gunfire, each thud pulling at something deep. For just a breath, legs twitched forward despite knowing better, pulled by instinct more than thought.“Sierra, don't,” Jace said grabbing my arm.“I am not a sack of grain,” I hissed, pulling against his grip.“No, you are worse. Grain listens.”My voice might have cracked sharp then, only my chest felt too tight with each beat. Ugly shadows jumped across the narrow stone, cast by the light he held. That rag Asher found wouldn’t leave me - still there, crisp in thought. Dorian left that mark. Maybe just a man dressed like him. Doesn’t matter now. The path isn’t dead anymore. Breathing. Shifting.A thud cut through the air, sharper than before, as if a body had knocked hard against wood.Footsteps paused. "Asher," I said, voice cutting through the quiet without warning.From where he stood, a sound cut through - tight, quiet, telling him to hold still.Like that’s ever going to happen.Faces
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