Rejected Crown: Perpetual Twilight
However, I feel that uncovering its secrets will lead to more questions.
I find Quinn in the dimly lit study, surrounded by stacks of dusty tomes and ancient scrolls. Her eyes are fixed on a particularly worn leather-bound book, her brow furrowed in concentration. “Quinn,” I say, my voice cutting through the silence.
She looks up, her gaze sharp and focused. “Salvatore,” she replies, setting the book down carefully. “What did you find out?”
I take a deep breath, the weight of my discovery settling on my chest. “I spoke with a group of supernatural’s,” I begin, watching as Quinn’s expression shifts from curiosity to a mix of anticipation and trepidation.
Bab Populer