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... beautiful Makino lying in his arms.
At twenty-one, Makino’s beauty was gentle and homely, and fear in her eyes only made it feel more human.
Her eyes—usually soft—were wide and glass-bright, catching every flicker of movement. A small breath hitched; she swallowed hard, the pulse at her throat beating quickly.
A few strands of dark hair slipped loose and clung to her temples, but she didn’t notice; her attention was everywhere else.
The beauty people remembered wa ...
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