The Lycan queen muttered behind Adrian, “That’s her?” with a voice that embodied all the mayhem that mounted inside him.
Yes, that’s Ari. My kamará. That is her face, with the ominous wind whipping long golden strands across it.
However, the eyes that stared him down should be as blue as the sky above, should be filled with that congenial Aura that only she could conceive. Is this Ari? The inky black that saturated over every aspect of her eyes protested that Truth. As he listened to Link and Âlde Tire intone their surprise in hushed protests, dread thickened within his chest.
What happened to her? To them? What did the Grandmaster do?
“Rob?” his uncle was the first to break out of the petrified state, his warbled voice barely loud enough to hear. Yet, his kamará responded; his head sl
