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... to the fire they were building below. The island - no, this new world - began to pulse with its own rhythm. The trees swayed. The ground shimmered. A soft mist began to rise, not cold but warm, laced with the scent of sex and flowers and fire.
Susan stood now, her body still trembling but her eyes fierce. She walked to Jude, kissed him long and slow, then pressed her hands to his chest. "Do you feel it?"
He nodded. "It’s waking up."
"But it’s not just watching now," she ...
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