PREVIEW

... blood ran cold. Her eyes moved quickly to the chair by the window.

There was a presence there—an unwelcome one.

’Kraven,’ Isadora thought as she swallowed a lump in her throat.

The night lights barely reached him, reflecting only on his boots and parted thighs.

He sat there relaxed like he owned the room, this gave Isadora the strong impression that he’d been there for a while, waiting only for the right time to announce his presence.

"I could’ve offered t ...

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