A Different Kind of Alpha: Blood Oath
The entire mountain shudders beneath us, a low, grinding, tearing groan, as if the world is ripping in half.
A cloud of roiling, choking black dust billows from the tunnel mouth, a giant, ghostly hand reaching for the sky. It blots out the moon, blots out the stars.
And then there’s nothing but silence.
A profound, terrible, ringing silence. Deeper and colder than the one that came before. The wind has died. The world is holding its breath.
It’s done.
Tarek makes a low, choking, vomiting sound. One of the other warriors is openly sobbing. Marcus just closes his eyes, his face a mask of grim, stone-cold duty.
Sikat na Kabanata