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... ed in protest. A stiff ache spread down his legs and lower back—clearly, sleeping in a cramped vehicle wasn’t doing him any favors. He stretched, arms rising above his head until his joints popped, the cold morning air brushing over his skin.

From behind, he could feel it.

That burning gaze.

Sharp, intense, unwavering.

It prickled between his shoulder blades like a phantom hand. But he didn’t turn. He ignored it.

’Staring at me like I’m going to sprout win ...

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