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... resence, not even a whisper of one. That scared him. His dragon instincts had failed him, and worse, so had his assassin’s instincts.

He was a masculine man with short, messy, dark hair that had volume and slight waves. Golden-yellow eyes gleamed behind thin, round-rimmed glasses, giving him an intense, almost mysterious air. His mustache and goatee were neatly trimmed and dark, matching his hair. He wore a white shirt, black tie, and black vest—formal and precise.

"My name is Zi ...

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