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Ghostland (ghostland)

Page 35

by Jory Strong


  Desire flared between them, hot and fierce. Her body was soft against his, her small tremors of need nearly his undoing.

  Reluctantly he ended the kiss and pulled away. He turned his head to find he and Aisling were alone in the room.

  Her gasp drew his attention to her arm, to the coiled serpent inked around her wrist, worn like the bracelet he’d become when they’d been cast into the spiritlands together. He glanced at his own arm and saw only tanned skin where once he’d worn the mark of his house.

  It was done then. But unlike the first time she’d called for him on the spirit winds, he felt no fury. He felt only joy that she knew his name.

  Aisling laughed when Zurael picked her up and carried her toward the bedroom. She unbound his braid as he walked, reveled in the way his face tightened and his eyes grew molten at her touch.

  They needed to talk. About what they’d learned. Where they’d live. The dangers facing them. But for the moment, for always, her happiness would be found in a Djinn’s arms.

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