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Ваша оценкаFreedom never tasted so bitter.
A stolen love. A strangled curse. A heart of sin. And a fate touched in moonlight.
My men weave a tangled web around my soul, and I’ve formed a pack that will go to death and back for me.
The moon hangs low over my heart as the call of the endless sky draws me closer and I find myself lost in the abyss that was waiting for me out here.
Fate has left a bitter taste on my tongue, the haunting echoes of the past mocking me at every turn. But I’m not a pup anymore...
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Darkmore Penitentiary
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Ваша оценкаПрочитали 16Хотят прочитать 11
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