Faith Wakley

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“Faythe.” Reylan’s voice was so gentle as he emerged into the open space. Faythe sobbed harder out of relief and joy that he was here. He dropped to a crouch in front of her. “I see you—” “And I hear you,” she finished in a croak. Reylan smiled, and she mirrored it weakly.
A Throne From the Ashes (An Heir Comes to Rise, #3)
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