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Chapter 37: The Marks That Made Him
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Chapter 39: The Villainess Route
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Rowan immediately reached for his discarded shirt—instinctual, defensive, and automatic.
His movements were stiff, sharp, and almost panicked. As if my eyes on his scars were more dangerous than the assassins that chased us.
He had the fabric halfway over his shoulders when I spoke.
Quietly.Coldly.Firm enough to freeze him mid-motion.
"Rowan."
He stopped.
I stepped closer, one hand lifting—hesitant, but steady enough to touc ...
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