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... out of the shower, skin flushed from the heat, hair damp and curling slightly at the ends. The marble floor of Damian’s private bathing chamber was warm underfoot, enchantments humming quietly beneath its surface. The palace might’ve been a labyrinth of judgmental eyes and whispered politics but here, it felt like a retreat carved into stone and magic.

He took his time, toweling his hair and slipping into the soft, obsidian house robe laid out for him, Damian’s, unmistakably. It draped o ...

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