Grace Baldwin

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The Mist King swung up onto the horse, settling in behind me. His substantial chest shifted against my back as he reached an arm on either side of me to grab the reins. I scowled as his hands settled onto my thighs, just above my knees. The heat and power of him pressed into me. Something within me clenched. “This is not necessary,” I said hotly
Of Mist and Shadow (The Mist King, #1)
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