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“And if none of these removal spells work… then we’re going to have to have sex.” Phaaos, God of Love, Lust, and Hunt, I will place a kill at your altar every week until my dying breath. I cleared my throat. The table was only two and a half feet at best. It would be nothing to reach her across from it. “That… seems like a brilliant plan. I have no complaints.”
That Time I Got Drunk and Yeeted a Love Potion at a Werewolf (Mead Mishaps, #2)
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