Morgan Lothman

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His free hand touched my arm in the exact place where he’d grabbed me yesterday outside the tavern, and I winced. “I’m sorry.” “You didn’t hurt me.” Yes, it was tender today. My entire body was sore. But there were no marks. No bruises from his grip. “Maybe not.” The sadness in his green eyes cracked my heart. “But I could have.”
Shield of Sparrows (Shield of Sparrows, #1)
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