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“Stop. Is that his fucking name?” Draven’s voice was icy. “Is that his fucking name on you?”
“I’d never dream of asking you to sightsee,” Vesper said with an impressively straight face. “A man like you? Never.”
“Stop taming the battlecat,” Draven said, looking slightly annoyed. “She’s a killing machine. Not a house pet.” “Says the man who snuggled beside her all night,” I retorted.
“I’d say comparing yourself to wild animals was fitting, except the exmoor seems highly intelligent,” I muttered.
