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Chapter Thirty-Four

Ulfhild's legs were numb with Brand's head resting on them for so long. Her eyes were gritty. They no longer focused after staring at the cream-colored wall for however many hours it had been since she had been brought to this place. Her fingers barely felt the growing stubble of her mate's beard as she stroked his face unconsciously. Hunger and thirst had ceased to have any meaning. In short, she felt no more substantial than a náin (ghost). Did she truly exist anymore?

A light rapping came on the thick wooden door, but Ulfhild didn't stir. A blonde head covered in braids, strikingly similar to her own, peeked in the door. "Kan jeg komme inn, Cetter? (May I come in, cousin?)" Asta asked, taking a step into the room.

Ulfhild's eyes didn't move as Asta walked toward her carrying a tray. She glanced at the previous tray she had left for the woman which sat untouched on the table next to the bed. She sighed and placed the new tray on the small table next to the window. "Du må spise, elle
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