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... tly on his shoulder. "Please, Zamiel. You are going to cause the wound to open even more." 


He stopped struggling to get up and let his head fall back. He was panting while holding his chest. 


More blood seeped from the wound on his chest. Blood should normally be bad, but in his case it was good. She just needed to stop him from trying to move. 


"You will be alright." She told him when he looked at her with pleading eyes. "You will be alright and ...

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“You…” She stepped back. Then back again, her mouth dropped open. “You… You cannot be…”

“I am,” Etan said, and his hair raked back as he pushed his mask off his handsome face. So handsome her heart raced.

His hair was ebony black, his skin a warm brown that threatened to fade in in the winter months. He stared at her with glittering green eyes, over high cheekbones and a noble nose, his jaw tight and shadowed this late in the day. His chin was high over the pillar of his neck that she’d just touched with its hard lines and steel strength, so different to her own. And his chest... She gasped and covered her eyes. She’d humiliated herself revealing her stupid, childish curiosity.

“No, Ayleth. This changes nothing.”

“How can you say that? It changes everything!” She was horrified to realize she was crying.

“Ayleth, please.” His voice cracked on the plea and she stared at him, shoving her mask up and off, despite how it would pull her hair out of the beautiful twist the maid had managed for her.

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