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A TIDAL WAVE OF EMOTION SEEMED TO BE CRUSHING ALZAR. One singular feeling was distinct, something Alzar had felt before. Back all those weeks ago, when stress and anger had caused him to steal Sariel’s gun and blow off some steam in the forest, Alzar had thought he had simply wanted to destroy. But he was mistaken.

He wanted to eat.

The tips of his fingers became numb as he turned to Fancy with wide eyes. “I can't. All those people will die.”

Fancy’s eyes were cold. “Would you think twice about crushing an ant?”

Her words hit like a knife.

Under his feet, the ground began to tremble, his head spinning and filling with static. The pale peak of his spine appeared in the distance, emerging from the center of a building.

Alzar stared at Fancy, clenching his fist, as if restraining himself. Something in the ground was squirming, fighting to be let loose. He could barely handle it. It was like holding back an tsunami.

“Go on, dear,” Fancy murmured, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Alzar let go.

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