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... his hand brushing against his legs as though it could steady the unease rattling inside him. His eyes flicked to Seraphina, this goddess who had just defused the storm that nearly ended with him murdering his own mother, as he didn’t know what to say. A lump sat heavy in his throat.
Her eyes didn’t help. Those piercing blue irises didn’t meet his with warmth or even recognition, they regarded everything with detached disdain.
The sofa, the curtains, the table with its scratches ...
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