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Chapter 14

Cyril and Cedric supported each other, and the two of them slipped back into the underground chamber beneath the manor. But the moment they pushed open the heavy iron door, they froze. The chamber was empty. The instruments that had once been stained with my blood, the sheets, everything had been scrubbed clean. There was no scent in the air. No smell of blood. Not even the faintest trace of my pheromones. "Where is it?" Cedric rushed inside, throwing himself onto the iron bed and inhaling desperately. "Why is there no scent at all?" Cyril stood in the doorway, fingers digging into the doorframe until his nails split. "Purification," he said quietly. "It's the White Wolf's innate ability. Before she left, she purified every trace that belonged to her." I didn't want them to find me. I was unwilling to leave them even the faintest trace. Despair surged like a tide, nearly drowning them both. Without my pheromones, mania would slowly devour their sanity until their minds rot

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