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Rosalia’s POV: I watch my Master in silence. Never before had I heard of a Master allowing his slaves to call them by their name– let alone tell them at all– as we were taught that we were below them in the hierarchy and here to serve. My Master– Hunter watches me carefully, and I try to think of a reply. “I didn’t think that was allowed.” “Under whose rules?” His voice is soft and sounds rich and melodic to me. Where his hand had brushed my cheek, small trails of fire still linger under my skin. I take a few steady breaths, trying to fight against the voiceless magnetism I feel for this man. He’s my Master! Swallowing softly, I look away and push my hair behind my ear, rubbing my fingers together when they come away sticky with grease. My Master seems to notice my reaction as he motion