My Alpha is a Lunatic
A name echoes from the depths, not my own, a title spoken in whispers and screams by a thousand voices:
The World-Ender.
And beneath the title, a single, coherent memory slams into me with the force of a freight train. I’m standing over the ruins of a different city, a different Instance, my hands dripping with something that isn’t blood, looking at a man with familiar, wary eyes. Liam Reed. He’s saying my name—my real name—and his voice is the only anchor in a world coming apart.
The memory vanishes as quickly as it came, leaving me gasping on my knees in the white nothingness. But it left something behind. A scent. Not ozone, but something wilder. Pine and frost and furious, untamed power.
Bab Populer