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Grace of a Wolf - Chapter 87: Lyre: Embraced (?)
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Chapter 86: Grace: Honey, I’m Home
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Chapter 88: Lyre: Let’s All Calm Down
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... hing someone who once stood tall crumble into terrified submission. Owen—all six-foot-something of Order-aligned angelic muscle—keeps flinching whenever I so much as breathe in his direction. It’s adorable, really.
He’s young. Strangely young. Maybe mid-twenties at best. Seems odd, considering his bloodline, but I’m not about to ask. Knowing means involving, and involving means work.
No, thank you.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I fish it out while maintaining eye cont ...
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