“He might rule the city with an iron fist, but at home, his voice softened when he caught me sneaking to my room with a scratch on my neck after school. “There you are…” I was shocked by his voice, my blood turning to ice. Meeting him was the last thing I wanted. “Wait…turn around. What happened to your neck?” His soft tone vanished, replaced by an icy whisper that pinned me in place, utterly helpless.”
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