Blood and Rain
But right in the center of the path, the towering, ebony-skinned giant with the cascading silver-white hair completely collapsed.
His bare knees struck the hard cobblestones with a concussive crack. His large hands flew to his face as a choked, agonizing weep tore from his throat, his broad chest heaving as he rocked back and forth. He was entirely unraveled by the phantom echoes of a thousand years of slaughter playing on a loop behind his ice-light eyes. He wasn't a god—none of them were. They were simply immortals. Abused, starved immortals who quite frankly wished for death rather than having to live with the horrific guilt of what they had become.
He flinched, his head ducking down as h
Bab Populer