⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚Tarrah˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆

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She tried to concentrate, to slow the frantic whir of her mind, but it flew uncontrollably to the place she knew it would—Ayla. Her lips. Her breath. Her skin. Darkness and touching and kissing and . . . She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood.
Crier's War (Crier's War, #1)
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