Chadstone could see the mortal shamans of Dakshana’s clan hovered outside of the hut where she’d lived all her life. The other villagers watched and waited as well, and Chadstone could see the avarice on their faces. They’d hoped her dead, to pick over what little she had left in the world.
It made him smile, ache to see his crystal at her throat when she stepped into the sunlight.
He watched those shamans, because he knew their greed, their craven souls. So many others had come to the Shadows before, wanting gifts and securing purchases instead.
So many others.
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