The storm outside Blackwood Sanctuary raged through the night with primal, untamed fury. The wind screamed against the gothic stone spires, hurling blinding sheets of rain against the reinforced glass windows, but inside the master suite, the roaring fire in the massive stone hearth kept the air warm, fragrant with seasoned cedar and peat. Maya stood on the Persian rug before the fire, wearing a soft, long-sleeved ivory silk dressing…
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