🎀 CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY-NINE🎀 Elira sat up slowly, the transition from the cold, damp alleyway to the warmth of a soft mattress making her head spin. She blinked, her memory fractured. She remembered the suffocating grip of those men, the sudden flash of steel, and then Zariel’s silhouette looming over the bodies. A wave of dizziness had washed over her right after he spoke, she must have fainted from the sheer terror of it all. The room was surprisingly orderly, far cleaner than the attic at the Iron Keg. It wasn't a palace, but it had a quiet, grounded dignity to it. She stood up, her legs feeling like jelly, and followed the sound of rhythmic breathing through the door. Outside, the morning air was crisp. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw him. Zariel was shirtless, his back to her as he performed effortless pull-ups on a sturdy wooden bar. His long, dark hair, which she had previously only seen draped over his shoulder, was pulled back into a messy pon
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