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Chapter 7

The Morning Treaty

The Devil's Sacrament · Vivienne Leclair · 6 min read

Dawn broke over the Isle of Morven not with sunshine, but with a pale, pearlescent mist that clung to the jagged black basalt crags like a shroud. The gale had blown out to sea, leaving the Atlantic rolling in vast, glassy swells that boomed against the sea caves far below. Inside the high tower suite, the great hearth still pulsed with the deep, ruby heat of glowing peat embers. Evangeline…

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