Soren and Kingsley. Damn this book is beautiful.
“Eleanor.” Kingsley was free. No hands held him. No mouth kissed him. He stood against the tree, alone, untouched. Bewildered, he stared at Søren, who stood five feet away from him, panting. Søren raised his hand and wiped a drop of blood off the side of his mouth. “Mais…” Kingsley protested. Søren...
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