Queen of Supernatural
Her body burned, her veins ached, and somewhere behind her eyes, she saw flashes—an obsidian throne, a man in silver kneeling, her own hand holding a blade wreathed in violet fire.
“Why show me this?” she cried out, voice breaking. “Why me?”
The shadow’s expression shifted, softening like the memory of someone once loved.
“Because you are her correction,” it said. “And corrections always begin with betrayal.”
The mist surged around them, swallowing the light of the campfire, pressing in close.
And though Damian’s arm anchored her, though the hybrids braced for battle, Mia felt utterly alone—because for the first time, she wasn’t sure if the enemy standing before her was truly the Queen’s sha
Bab Populer