HIDDEN HOWL
This was my haven, a secret space where no one could find me—away from everything, from the pressures of my role, from the expectations that weighed on me.
In my hands, I held the book I had stolen from the secret library. It was bound in dark leather, and its pages crackled with age. I had barely managed to slip it from its hidden resting place without anyone noticing, and now I was finally going to read it. The title was unassuming, but the stories it held, the knowledge it promised, stirred something deep within me.
Bab Populer