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... heir fingers still interlaced from the rooftop moment they had shared. The quiet night wrapped around them like a blanket, cool and gentle. Rowan could feel Lucian's body slowly relaxing, his breaths deepening, tension ebbing away—but only on the surface.

Rowan didn't sleep. He kept his arm around Lucian, holding him there.

Lucian dreamed of fire.

Not the metaphorical kind—the real kind.

Hot, greedy, living fire that tore through drywall and memories. He was seven ...

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