Shellie

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“How?” she whispers. “I felt my power leave me when the sun set. That shouldn’t have been possible, but I—” Her words choke off. “There was something inside of me that just snapped open.” “And it was fucking glorious.” She flinches. “How can you say that?” she asks, her voice cracking. “I became a monster.” But I shake my head, brush my thumbs over her wet cheeks. “No, baby. Not a monster. A fae.”
Shellie
Hype man
Glow (The Plated Prisoner, #4)
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