"Peculiar machinery," a voice whispered. It came from her own throat, but the timbre was different—layered, resonant, and void of emotion. "So fragile, yet so resilient."
The posture was wrong—too rigid, too predatory. The warmth that usually softened her gaze was gone, replaced by a hollow, calculating stare. A smirk curled the corner of her mouth, a expression she had never made in her life. reagan foxx possession