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... n the ironwood trees began to turn the first hints of autumn gold, Alex could no longer pretend he had much time left.
The morning Alex realized he had one week left—maybe less—started like any other.
He woke to the familiar weight of Naga’s coils around him, the serpent’s cool scales pressed against the overheated skin of his belly. Lucas was curled at his back, one large hand splayed possessively over the swell, his breathing slow and even. Leo’s hand resting gently on his bell ...
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