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There’s magic wrapping around her, heat blooming through her as it tightens. She stands there lost in it for a moment: nothing like what she had with Gwen, all gentleness—want and urgency, yes, but always tender—this is something harsh and raw, something she could remake as magic if she wanted, something she could use to bring down a storm—
—but the isle is well-watered, and in the moonlight Nimueh is more than beautiful.