The Vines of Blackwood
The Blackwood Manor did not just sit upon the hill; it brooded. Its grey stones were choked by ancient, suffocating vines that seemed to pulse with a slow, rhythmic heartbeat. Cora had lived in the manor’s library for five years, a ghost in a dress of faded linen, tasked with archiving the decay of a dynasty. Silas arrived in the autumn, his eyes the color of a storm-tossed sea. He was the last...
0 Commentaires 0 Parts 2 Vue 0 Aperçu