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... neither looked like earth or sky. Everything shimmered in motion. Spirals of galaxies. Spirals of vines. Spirals of time itself. Twelve figures stood behind him, their bodies golden silhouettes, their hands joined.
The island whispered in his ear - not in words, but in sensation. Lust. Love. Longing. Devotion. Creation.
Jude felt his skin crack open - not in pain, but in release - and light poured out.
When he gasped back into the chamber, the women caught him, lowered hi ...
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