We moved through the Maw not as fleeing prey, but as ink bleeding through water, Koran didn’t shift into his wolf, he didn’t need to, in his human form, he moved with a predatory, silent grace that defied physics, his charcoal suit a blur against the obsidian corridors, I followed in his wake, my heart thundering against my ribs, but for the first time in my life, the fear wasn't paralyzing, it was fuel.As we neared the Queen’s Gallery, the temperature began to climb, it wasn't the natural, comforting warmth of a hearth, it was a sickly, artificial heat that smelled of burnt sugar and high-frequency ozone, solar magic, specifically, the kind used by the Zenith Specialists, men who had been "blessed" by Kaelen to hunt anything that lived in the dark.Standing in the center of the gallery, surrounded by ancient tapestries that depicted the birth of the first Shadow King, was a man dressed in pure white tactical gear, his eyes didn't have iris or pupil, they were twin pits of harsh, art
Zuletzt aktualisiert : 2026-03-24 Mehr lesen