[Whispers in the Dark]I was a prisoner in my own skin, watching through my own eyes as my hand reached out to wrap around Dante’s throat. I tried to scream, to pull back, to tell my muscles to stop, but I was nothing more than a ghost trapped behind a glass wall. My body was moving with a terrifying, liquid precision that didn't belong to me.Dante didn’t flinch. Even as my fingers tightened against his skin, he stood his ground in the center of the darkened penthouse. The only light came from the red emergency strobes of the Spire, casting long, rhythmic shadows that made the room feel like it was breathing."Ivy, stop this," he commanded, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. He reached up, his large hands closing over my wrists. He could have easily broken my grip, but he was hesitating. He was looking at my face, searching for the woman he obsessed over, but all he found was a blank, matte stare."Ivy is currently indisposed, Architect," my voice said.The sound was wrong. The pitch
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