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... oing corner of the underworld for people who burst into your room after you'd barely survived a kidnapping, shouted about weddings, and jumped on your bed like tiny gremlins made of sugar and secrets.
Aeris had a voice like a silver bell that had been enchanted to cause migraines, and Arion had somehow managed to get glitter in my sheets. Glitter. In my sanctuary.
"I'm going to count to three," I said flatly, standing in my doorway in my nightgown like a very tired, very unamused ...
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