Nitya

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Talasyn flashed Alaric a small, hopeful smile. “Pretty, isn’t it?” Strands of chestnut hair had spilled loose from her braid and were blowing in the wind. The sun brought out the gold in her eyes and danced atop the freckles on her softly rounded cheeks. He was looking at her when he said, “Yes.”
Nitya
Such a cliche but i love itttt
A Monsoon Rising (The Hurricane Wars, #2)
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