PREVIEW

... like a living lung, inhaling dusk and exhaling a cool breath that smelled faintly of crushed lilies and ancient ink. High overhead, arch‑ribs of ivy‑fused marble caught the last violet light, and between those ribs bloomed murals—whole gardens chiseled into stone, each petal threaded with silver runes that pulsed in a slow, echoing heartbeat.

Draven's gaze swept the corridor the way a surgeon studies an exposed vein. Every petal, every rune, every delicate shimmer of reflected light mapp ...

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