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Chapter 33: Scavenger
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Chapter 35: Call Andrew
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... ll there, the sheets warm, the air faintly scented with dark silk and wine, but the arm was gone. He blinked up at the carved ceiling, momentarily disoriented. For a second he thought he’d dreamed it: the wedding, the car, the king in silk pajamas. Then the size of the bed registered. He’d never been in one so big; it felt like a small country with pillows.
And that, he thought grimly, said something. He wasn’t a street urchin. He had a perfectly good two-bedroom apartment back in the ci ...
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