Mated To My Stepbrother
The keystone settled deeper into its place.
"Alright," I said, my voice steady in the cold dusk air. No fanfare. No defiance. Just acceptance of the slow, hard work of becoming unmovable. I turned from the edge, following Torin’s solid, silent form back towards the guarded heart of the Keep, carrying the weight, holding the invisible line, waiting for a dawn that promised no relief, only the continuation of the low, slow tide of endurance. The pack’s survival, it seemed, was built on such quiet, unyielding stones.
Bab Populer