Koraima Garza

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I lifted a hand toward that darkness, and met with a soft, silky material—his wing, cocooning and warming me. I traced my finger along it, and he shuddered, his arms tightening around me. “Your finger … is very cold,” he gritted out, the words hot on my neck.
A Court of Mist and Fury (A Court of Thorns and Roses, #2)
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