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I’m not Wicker, who’s starved for the release, or Lex, who’s feral for the catch. I’m here to fill the hungry, empty void inside her, and when her eyes reluctantly flutter shut, I content myself with holding her. Enveloping her. Possessing her. I don’t expect to sleep, but I do.
Princes of Ash (Royals of Forsyth University, #8)
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