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Chapter 4: The Belly of the Beast - 1
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... er massive paws thudding against the cracked stone floor.
She wasn’t gentle.
Azareel’s limp body bounced twice, his tattered robe catching on jagged edges as she gripped him by its frayed collar, her snarls echoing through the ruined cathedral like a storm.
His arms dangled, blood-streaked and pale, his silver hair matted with dust and dried ichor.
She dumped him unceremoniously beside a splintered altar, its surface scarred with claw marks and faded runes, and be ...
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