The Alpha's Bought Bride
Crack.
A sound like a breaking bone echoed through the chamber as a massive fissure ripped open across the center of the crystal wall. From the dark, yawning void beyond the fracture, a wave of pure, freezing ozone and ancient malice flooded into the room, instantly snicking out the ambient heat of the forges above.
And then came the sound. It wasn't the wet clicking of the cave-stalkers. It was a low, synchronized, melodic chanting—hundreds of whispered voices speaking an ancient, dead language that made the black veins on my arms burn like liquid fire.
Bab Populer