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... on the breeze.

Even on Elia, though the scent of her was so sweet to him, it was near intoxicating. He'd never forgotten her smell, but now that she was no longer a child, the smell of her that he'd enjoyed as a cub—the smell that made him feel safe, accepted—had bloomed, from a single, frail flower, to an entire bouquet.

"What were you two talking about, flames and smoke?" she said cautiously. The fear in her voice broke through his thoughts and grated on him like fur rubbed the ...

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