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Chapter 87

Blossom POV

It's dark.

Very dark. You'd have to be here to truly grasp how the deepest pitch black you've ever encountered doesn't hold a candle to this. If I couldn't feel my fingers or touch my face, I'd think I was trapped in some kind of purgatory. And right now, I'm not even thankful for the sense of touch. It's freezing, and I can feel thick, mucky wetness surrounding me.

I hear water running, but I can't see if it's even drinkable—or if it's water at all. It sounds more like 'liquid falling into a drain.' The stench in this place is unbearable, like a truck filled with rotten meat crashing into a pile of dead animals and tumbling into a dumpster overflowing with corpses.

What I wouldn't give to be back in the castle garden right now. Or to be in Dean's arms.

It seems unlikely, but maybe I can send a message to him...

(Baby, if you can hear this, please come help me. Liza and Hugo have completely lost their minds, and I'm terrified.)

Scratch that thought...

Can I still shapeshi
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