Mated To The Alpha
The tangled roots dragged them screaming into the soil, binding them in place, opening the field for the Stormborn warriors to finish them.
But the enemy was relentless.
Daven’s warlocks, clad in crimson robes and skull paint, countered with dark energy. One aimed a cursed lance of fire at Reva, but she turned just in time, deflecting it with a wall of wind. Still, the effort left her drained.
Viktor noticed her stumble and sprinted toward her, slicing through two rogues as he reached her. “Reva—are you—?”
“I’m fine,” she gasped, catching his arm. “I just need time. I’m not done yet.”
Bab Populer