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... mmered with something vile as he mentioned Primrose. "Why don’t we trade? Give me your mate, and I’ll leave this place at once. After all, if I can breed a woman as beautiful as her, my children will surely inherit her extraordinary genes—"
He never finished his foul words because Edmund’s sword was already whistling through the air, aimed for his throat. Weston jerked aside at the last second, the blade striking sparks off the stone wall instead.
"Your filthy mouth has no right ...
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