The Alpha's Apocalypse Sweet Queen
He’s looking for me.
Rhea stood beside him, her shoulder brushing against his arm. The proximity was intoxicating, a desperate comfort against the looming threat of execution. In the apocalypse, romance wasn't about grand gestures or soft words; it was found in the shared silence of two people refusing to let the dark take them. She reached down, her fingers intertwining with his. Dominic didn't pull away. Instead, his grip tightened, anchoring her to his side.
If the tracker gets within two blocks, you said this bakery becomes a beacon," Rhea whispered, looking up at his profile. "How do we hide your signature long enough for Regnar’s men to set the trap?
Bab Populer