Curse of the Wolves
Like why I’d felt a mate-bond between myself and Genevieve, when it was clear she couldn’t feel it herself.
Kiara lifted her hand, holding it out for me to inspect. A golden bracelet circled her wrist, set with a small hourglass. Sand trickled from one end to the other. A silent countdown to something big—something important, perhaps.
In a flash of golden light the bracelet vanished, morphing into a slender cane. The hourglass was perched on top, a few sizes larger. Enough for me to see the individual granules of sand trickling away.
“Three spins of this hourglass and I can manipulate the fate of every being in this room. Do you know the power a single grain possesses?”
Bab Populer