Michaela Nardone

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I leapt up and threw myself against the Window. The dead reached for me. You’re one of us, they begged. Let us out. We’re so hungry. We’re so thirsty. Through the morass of empty, desperate eyes, I saw a familiar face—Vincent. You’d better help me here, I told him, momentarily regretting that I was so rude in our last conversation.
The Fallen and the Kiss of Dusk (Crowns of Nyaxia #4)
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