The Royal Mate Of The Cursed Lycan King
He caught one by the leg and swung him into two others before crushing his spine underfoot.
We were holding them.
But there were many.
Too many.
Arrows sliced through the air above me, swift, deadly, deliberate.
Emma.
Even without shifting, she was lethal.
From her position near the broken inner barricade, she moved like a dancer of death. Draw. Release. Draw. Release.
Every arrow found a throat, an eye, a heart.
A vampire leapt toward her from behind — she spun, ducked under his swipe, drove a dagger into his abdomen, twisted, then shot an arrow through his skull at point-blank range.
Bab Populer