The Luna Queen's Blood Oath
“Prepare the King’s chambers. I need the mask.”
A few minutes later, Rowan stood before the ornate mirror in Derek’s private rooms. The heavy, ceremonial armor felt alien on his shoulders.
A servant held the mask, a masterpiece of illusion crafted by the pack’s finest artisan. It was a perfect replica of Derek’s face, imbued with a subtle magic that clouded the eye and made the wearer appear taller, broader, more imposing.
He took the mask and fitted it over his own features. The world became slightly muted, the air tasting of metal and enchantment. He looked in the mirror and saw not himself, but his Alpha.
Bab Populer