The house was eerily silent, which alerted her to the idea that someone might be listening. I don't care how soon he learns that he has lost his adopted son. The same pale white buttocks, the same freckles in the same unchanging patterns on her collarbone that all of her mother’s potions had never been able to erase. “I lied, as I would have committed a murder, or done any evil deed sooner than lose you. ‘Couldn’t reconcile it with my dooty to leave you here—’ A thought made Melusine stop dead, turning to him. Wood. ” He smiled at the naiveté of her suggestion.
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