Phoenix jerked her hand back as if the Moonstone fragment had suddenly turned into white-hot iron, her fingers still tingling with a warmth that felt like a sickening betrayal of the five years of winter she had carried in her soul."Don't touch me," she spat, the words catching in a throat that had suddenly gone dry as the volcanic ash they were studying.She stood in her glass-walled replica office, her chest heaving underneath her white silk blouse. For exactly 1.5 seconds, her world had tilted. The moment her skin brushed his over the pulsing indigo crystal, a jolt of raw, biological electricity had surged up her arm, straight to the hollow cavity where her heart used to be. It wasn't just heat; it was an anchoring—a terrifyingly familiar fusion of his scent, Rain and Ancient Pine, and her own, Roses and Gunpowder Smoke. For that heartbeat, the ear-ringing tinnitus of her own rage had vanished, replaced by a silence so profound it felt like a homecoming.She hated him for it. She
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