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... s weren’t loud.
But they were sharp.
"You’re not that good at lying."
She stilled, the world narrowing to the space between them. Her fingers curled tighter around the empty cup. Slowly, deliberately, she lifted her gaze—cutting straight into his.
Lucavion didn’t look away.
His eyes—black as ink, deep as carved obsidian—were already watching her.
Not the smug, careless kind of watching she’d grown used to from him. No. This was something else. Some ...
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