We use cookies
When you visit our website, if you give your consent, we will use cookies to allow us to collect data for aggregated statistics to improve our service and remember your choice for future visits. Cookie Policy & Privacy Policy
Dear Reader, we use the permissions associated with cookies to keep our website running smoothly and to provide you with personalized content that better meets your needs and ensure the best reading experience. At any time, you can change your permissions for the cookie settings below.
If you would like to learn more about our Cookie, you can click on Privacy Policy.
Your cookies settings
Strictly cookie settingsAlways Active
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER EIGHT Lore stood on a mound of rubble amongst the ruins of Boldt Castle. The blades from the lowering helicopter made wind whip his torn clothes and ruffle his hair. He glanced around, surveying the damage the plane had caused. Hatred filled him to the brim. He cried, shaking his fist at the gaping hole in the side of the ancient castle. Then he took a deep breath. There was no time to waste. His people would be dead, eradicated, by the end of the night. Their only hope was to find the girl who had stolen his cousin’s heart. And that meant killing anyone who stood in their way. But the Immortalists were panicking, startled by the presence of the helicopter. They began zooming around the great hall, some streaming out of the castle altogether, running off to their inevitable deat
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD