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... ad walked away, the halls echoed of his presence.
His scent lingered in the air, the ghost of his finger still imprinted on my cheek. A stray tear had leaked down my face, staining my shirt, but I did not wipe it away, it was as if I had been frozen in place.
The mating bond between us ached for him. Like an anchor, it tugged me back to him, trying to convince me that forgiveness was what he was owed. I knew he had a past, a violent one at that, but I did not for once think that ...
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