Jaime Alter

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it was never supposed to be me. The shadow writhes to the surface. I sense its shape, its weight, the great heaving wave of it as it surges from the throbbing wound in my chest. I purge it like an infection, eyes bulging, watering, body shaking. It leaves me behind and surges towards the twins, enveloping them in bright, searing light. The twins drop to all fours.
The Fae Princes (Vicious Lost Boys, #4)
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