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    Summary

    Shakir noticed something: though her hand still rested on him, her attention had fled elsewhere as if he had vanished from the room without a trace. The smile she offered to Faramor wasn’t the kind she ever spared for him. It was warmer, softened just for the other wolf.

    — in which Shakir drink to cope with the fact that the Magister was slipping away from him.

    Language:
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