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Your nails dug into your palms. Your eyes narrowed at the eldritch being before you. “You don’t know that.”
Nightmare chuckled—low, rich, amused. “I know curses,” His eye light started to gleam brighter. “This one? It reeks of ancient grief.”
He stood still again and extended one of his bony hands toward you, a cruel smile twisting his already dark features. “I can sever it.
“But,” He added smoothly, “power is never free.”
Of course it fucking isn’t.
