Rance-Dahl paused next to the object of days of his hatred and scorn, momentarily bewildered by the boy’s shaking body. The beast witnessed, with wicked pleasure, the human’s tears staining the gritty floor. Smirking, the gargoyle reached down, intending to hurl the boy across the torture chamber another time—mistaking the boy’s quivering for manifested terror.
But Paign’s shaking wasn’t from terror.
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