The Haven Of Shadows
Not with words, with breath.
He let out a slow, disbelieving exhale, hands flattening against the wooden table like he needed the grain to anchor him. “You’re saying…” He stopped, swallowed, tried again. “You’re saying all of this, him, was real. Not legend. Not exaggeration.”
Lucien’s gaze never left Eamon. “Legends,” the vampire said quietly, “are usually what remains when the truth is too heavy to carry intact.”
Cassian leaned back in his chair, one boot hooking around the rung beneath him. His expression was unreadable, not mocking, not amused. That alone told me everything.
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