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... of cold stone, extinguished candle wax, and... them.

He did a slow, horizontal scan.

To his right was a landscape of pale, powerful muscle and a fall of silken, mist-white hair. The Dragon Lord, Oathran Alicei, slept on his back, one arm flung out under Eastiel’s head in a pose of negligent dominion. The bold lines of his horns cut a dark silhouette against the grey light from a high window. Naked.

He carefully turned his head.

To his left was a winter sun-kissed ...

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