Seraphine’s scream ripped through the battlefield like a wound torn open in the world itself.“Lucien!”She caught him as he collapsed, his weight slamming into her arms. His blood soaked into her clothes, scorching her skin. The silver spear protruded from his chest, its tip glinting cruelly in the burning light.For a single, frozen second, everything else ceased to exist.The war.The screams.The burning sky.There was only him.His eyes were half-lidded, glassy, unfocused. His lips parted as if he wanted to speak, but no sound emerged. His chest did not rise.No heartbeat.“No,” she whispered, pressing her ear to his chest, her hands trembling violently as they searched for life. “No, no, no, no”Nothing.Panic clawed into her throat, choking her.She slammed her palm against his chest. “Breathe!”Nothing.Seraphine pressed her forehead to his, tears blurring her vision. She had seen death. She had caused it. She had bathed in it for most of her life.But thisThis was unbearable
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