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Chapter 9: Black Threads of Blood and Pregnancy
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... he emerald velvet couch in the Armoire estate’s grand meeting hall, legs crossed, posture the very image of aristocratic indifference, and expression thoroughly unimpressed. Moonlight poured in from the tall glass windows, casting him in a divine glow that clashed violently with the conversation.
Across from him stood Dr. Faelan Hawke, a man with the permanent expression of someone who’d just discovered a new species and named it after himself.
"Daily, one pill, my lord," Faelan ...
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