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CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY-SEVEN

Emily took a long breath, allowing the surreal calmness and scent of the trees around her to swarm her senses. The silence, the damp scent of decaying leaves on the brown earth, the sweet scent of fruits, and the occasional rustling of leaves were the perfect tool to clear her mind from all the unwanted thoughts that had been bothering her.

It was peaceful in the forest. It was so peaceful and beautiful that she realized that she'd missed the solitude and tranquility she had enjoyed when she was with the coven. It was glaringly different from the crazy, busy New York, which was without peace or quiet. She loved it too, the sirens, loud voices, occasional gunshots, and the mesmerizing scents from the food carts. It struck her that she could love two opposites when she had always believed that she hated everything about the small villages and close-knit towns.

But as unbelievable as it was, she'd missed home. Memories of her taking walks with her father alongside the scent of her mothe
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