He looked at her guiltily. He sucked at her neck, biting her hard, leaving red marks that disappeared as soon as he made them. You are taking it for granted that I am ‘Alcide. A time may come when this little chap will need my aid, and, depend upon it, he shall never want a friend in Owen Wood. . ’ She shrugged fatalistically. “Your mother was a Gypsy.
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