Lana's POV A small, insistent hand shook my shoulder. “Lana. Lana, wake up.” My eyes flew open to a dim, unfamiliar place. It took a moment to separate the throbbing in my head from the muffled, distant sounds of shouting and the clang of metal. I was on a hard, cold floor. Stone, not wood. The air smelled of damp earth, rust, and a sharp, musky scent that was foreign and threatening. Dorothy’s face hovered above mine, her eyes huge with a fear she was trying desperately to contain. “You’re okay,” she whispered, more to herself than to me. I pushed myself up, my body protesting with a symphony of aches. The last clear memory was the tunnel, the jaws on my arm, the darkness swallowing Ronan’s enraged face. “Where…?” “Quiet.” Kaelia’s voice was a low rasp from across the small, windowless room. She was standing on a rickety wooden crate, peering through a high, barred opening that let in the only light, sickly, greyish glow. “We’re in a compound. Night Fang territory. Deep in it.”
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2025-12-24 Baca selengkapnya