His Hunger, My Curse
The moment his fingers left her skin, she felt the loss—like something inside her had been severed.
His silver eyes burned like molten steel, scanning the room with deadly intent.
“Show yourself, coward,” Adrian growled, his voice low, razor-sharp.
The air shifted, thickening with an ancient, electric charge. The fire in the hearth guttered, spitting embers before shrinking into a faint, dying glow. Shadows stretched unnaturally, creeping across the floor like ink spilling from an unseen wound.
And then…
The room darkened.
Not like a candle snuffed out, but something more sinister—something thick, alive, pressing against her skin like cold breath against her neck.
Bab Populer