Kirsten Corter

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Xaden threatens, his hand motions sharpening as he signs and his tone slipping into that dangerous calm that makes the lieutenants across from us shift in their seats and my gaze flicker his way. The hair rises on the back of my neck. There’s a flash of something…cold in his eyes, but it’s gone with a single blink. Huh.
Onyx Storm (The Empyrean #3)
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