His brows drew a little nearer together. The features were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun? Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it. All my life I've had to fight human wolves to hold what I have. ’ ‘Pah! You can never be Valade. She dragged the broken bottle across her carotid artery, creating an inch-deep gash upon her throat.
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