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... ilted.

Shit—I was falling.

But instead of hitting the ground, strong arms caught me, pulling me against a firm chest.

Lyander's chest.

I froze.

His grip was steady, warm—his scent a mix of cigarette smoke and something deeper, darker. His face was close, too close, and the damned smirk on his lips sent every single nerve in my body into a riot.

"Be careful now," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement. "That's already the second time you've fal ...

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