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Chapter 56: Fifty Six
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Chapter 58: Fifty Eight
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... I wish it, much as I yearn for it, I know it isn’t my Erasthai. Only the thirsting dream of a mad man. Still, even the knowledge of it doesn’t make me want it any less.
She wears nothing, save for the silky, fiery mane tumbling down her shoulders. Skin pale as the moon and cold as death, beauty worthy of tunes even the bards sang only with reverence.
"Luke," she breathes, running those pale hands up my chest, trailing up my arm, and when she takes my wrist and brings it to her l ...
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