3,99 €
A Wolf in the Dark. The Kingdom of Durundal, #2
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- FormatePub
- ISBN8227190185
- EAN9798227190185
- Date de parution15/09/2021
- Protection num.pas de protection
- Infos supplémentairesepub
- ÉditeurBig Dog Books, LLC
Résumé
IN THE KINGDOM OF DURUNDAL, HEARTS WILL BE BROKEN, LOVED ONES LOST AND THRONES BURNED. Lyall has lived and breathed nightmares since he was fourteen-years-old. He believed he knew every horror and was beyond surprise. He was wrong. When General Domitrius Corbulo launches a brutal attack on Castle Dru in Durundal, he slaughters everyone inside. Except one. Though two years after finding salvation in a clan, Lyall is one of many captives taken to Ataxata to fight in the Killing Games.
However, the man who is training Lyall to fight and kill his comrades, is the same man who butchered and killed his parents. Facing certain death, Lyall desperately needs a plan of escape ... To take back what is rightfully his and prevent the kingdoms turning into a war of annihilation. Excerpt:The weather seemed to change within minutes of them standing there. A rough wind brought clouds the colour of granite with sheets of driving rain, while the pallor of the November sky closed in upon the mountains cloaking them in mist and obscuring the moon.
And for all the tightly secure windows, there must have been a small crack in one of the panes, because every now and again little tears of rain ran down the inside and collected in pools on the edge of the sill. Somewhere in the distance a wolf howled, the queen shivered, the king moistened his dry mouth. The lone wolf was mourning, and it hung like a shroud over the weeping castle.
However, the man who is training Lyall to fight and kill his comrades, is the same man who butchered and killed his parents. Facing certain death, Lyall desperately needs a plan of escape ... To take back what is rightfully his and prevent the kingdoms turning into a war of annihilation. Excerpt:The weather seemed to change within minutes of them standing there. A rough wind brought clouds the colour of granite with sheets of driving rain, while the pallor of the November sky closed in upon the mountains cloaking them in mist and obscuring the moon.
And for all the tightly secure windows, there must have been a small crack in one of the panes, because every now and again little tears of rain ran down the inside and collected in pools on the edge of the sill. Somewhere in the distance a wolf howled, the queen shivered, the king moistened his dry mouth. The lone wolf was mourning, and it hung like a shroud over the weeping castle.
