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Chapter 91

Sacrificial Victim’s POV

Priestess stood before me in the bedroom doorway, naked except for a clinging shroud of black gauze so thin it looked more shadow than silk. Her statuesque figure was fully visible in the early afternoon light, full, pert breasts tight against the flimsy material. Ordinarily I'd have to keep myself from staring, but strangely enough in that moment it was hard to not make eye contact with her. Those big, pretty eyes, grey-blue like deep pools of ice water . . .

A muted noise from down in the street woke me from my reverie and I realised I had no idea how long I had been standing there like a fool. The expression on Priestess's face gave away nothing, her porcelain skin and air of quiet amusement making her look vaguely regal, like some pagan queen rendered in marble. More to cover my embarrassment than anything else I asked "So, why exactly are we-" I shrugged in what I hoped was an expressive fashion.

"What would you say if I told

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