graziella ୨୧

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I don’t have time to think about it. Suddenly, the king is at my elbow. He pauses as he looks me over. Then he hooks his finger around a lock of my hair and lifts it briefly. “Hmm. Unusual.” I stare at his chest, but I can see his eyes narrow, his lips part to speak— “My king,” Stark interrupts,
Dire Bound (The Wolves of Ruin, #1)
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