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As Wyatt gazes down at me, the sun moves behind him, filtering through the willow’s leaves and accenting him in gold. Then my world is him. The awkward smile softening his sharp features. The blue bloom against the mahogany shine of his hair. You are beautiful, I want to say. And I don’t think anyone has ever told you that you’re so much more than just a Blessing to pass on.
Voyage of the Damned
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