Bree Merritt

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“The things they whisper, what they say, make no sense. Out of context dribble, I’m surprised they’re not drooling on themselves.” My hands tightened on his arms as I stared at the statue of my former lover, unable to contain my disgust. “They cry and scream, mumbling words of darkness and despair. War looms and worlds end. And her fucking name.”
The Wrath of the Fallen (Gods & Monsters, #4)
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