Pamela Palmer 14 страница

“Kougar.”

“Feel.”

And she did. Goddess. A moment later, a delicate flower brushed against her hip, sliding over her buttocks and down her thigh. A soft, lush sensation in direct counterpoint to the violence struggling inside her. Even as she fought to get up, she shivered from the sensual pleasure of the bloom as it traced her opposite hip.

Kougar curled his fingers around her thigh and pulled her leg away from its twin, opening her to the touch of his flower. The petals slid along her sensitive flesh, drawing a moan of pleasure and need from deep in her throat.

Inside, the darkness growled with hunger and fury.

Without pulling the flower from between her legs, Kougar moved, his hand replacing his knee in the small of her back. A moment later, she felt his mouth on her butt cheek, nipping, scratching with his teeth as if he longed to take a bite and resisted... barely. Excitement tumbled inside her, the flower stroking between her legs growing damp and dewy.

Her hips began to rock as he drew the flesh into his mouth, sucked, and nipped. The flower disappeared as his fingers dove inside her, hard, in and out, in and out. She bucked wildly, gasping, then screaming as a blinding orgasm broke inside her.

“More, dammit. More!”

Kougar released her. Moving with his innate agility, he slid onto his back between her thighs and lifted her hips. Wrenching her wide, he pressed her down onto his mouth, shoving his tongue inside her and flicking it over her clit until she spiraled into another screaming orgasm.

The pleasure was almost more than she could bear.

So, too, was the terrible hunger.

She tried to push up, tried to kick free, her hands fisting until she felt the slick dampness of blood in her palms from her own fingernails. “I need to hurt you! Hurt me, Kougar. Hurt me!”

He slid out from beneath her, slamming her back down on the pillows, pinning her with his knee as she heard the rustle of fabric and watched his shirt sail to the ground out of reach. The sound of a belt being unfastened met her ears followed quickly by the slide of a zipper. A moment later the pressure at her back disappeared.

But as she pushed up on all fours, strong hands gripped her hips. She screamed with acute pleasure as Kougar took her from behind, burying himself deep.

This was what she needed! “Stay inside me. Stay. Inside.”

He thrust deeper, harder, over and over, then slid an arm around her, yanking her up until she was on her knees. Even as his hips pounded against her, his mouth found her shoulder. He bit her lightly then raked his tongue over the spot and bit her again.

She was out of her mind with passion, sensation, her senses exploding with the smell of flowers and sex. As she rocked back against his hard thrusts, his hand closed around her breast, pinching her nipple nearly to the point of pain. She arched into his hold, wanting... needing... more.

The battle between pleasure and pain escalated into full-out war. Barely conscious of what she was doing, she reached for his face, feeling her nails sink into his cheek before he grasped her wrist and yanked her hand away.

Kougar flipped her around and pushed her back on the pillows without gentleness or care, understanding her need for pain. Then he fell on her, taking her roughly, pounding into her harder, deeper, with every thrust.

Her fingers dove into his hair, too hard, holding him too tight. He captured her with his gaze. In those pale eyes, she saw savage excitement and fierce determination overlaid by a heartrending tenderness. In those pale eyes, she saw the man she’d fallen in love with all those years ago.

Inside her, another orgasm began to build, harder, faster, higher than any that had come before. And building, right alongside it, was the hunger, a seven-headed monster devouring her body and soul. But Kougar gripped her with his gaze, held her together as the war inside her threatened to rip her apart.

As the orgasm broke, she screamed with the glory of it. Then cried out with horror as she felt the bonds she’d locked around the poison all these centuries snap free.

As she turned to mist.

CHAPTER 20

The orgasm overtook Kougar in a blinding release, his and Ariana’s combined—magnificent, brilliant perfection as he sank into her, their bodies merging in a blazing burst of pleasure he hadn’t felt in...

Realization hit him with a stunning blow. She’d turned to mist.

“Ariana?”

For one fleeting moment, he wondered if she’d won. If the poison was gone. But Ariana’s horror rushed at him through that open mating bond, and he knew.

They’d lost.

The cry that tore from her throat was part anguish, part fury, and she fled from him, a wraith he couldn’t hold.

Kougar leaped to his feet as Ariana’s mistlike form, rimmed in blood red, whirled on him, one of his switchblades snapping open in her hand. And he understood. Hookeye’s controller spell had been set free.

“Do you belong to him now?” His voice remained calm, but he was roaring inside.

“The poison is trying to control me!”

That she knew that much meant she was still fighting, not lost. Not completely. Though she was mist, he knew she could turn to flesh in a microsecond, the blade becoming deadly just as fast.

“It wants you.” Her expression was terrible, her neon blue eyes filled with dread, her mouth battle-hard. “It wants me to hurt you. The compulsion...” One moment she was there, the next she was gone.

A knife tore through his lower back with white-hot pain. He spun, but it was Melisande behind him, not Ariana. A second later, she, too, disappeared.

Crap. He needed his knives, even if they’d do him little good with the Ilinas turning to mist after every strike. Fighting mist warriors had always been an exercise in futility. And he didn’t want to hurt them!

At the next flash of light, he dove for his pants, praying one of his knives was still there. He found it and rolled to his feet only to find the two women circling him, wraithlike, glowing with hot energy.

Neither attacking.

“What are you doing, Ariana?”

“He wants you injured, not dead. We’re to take you to the temple. All of you.”

All? The Ferals. “The spirit trap?”

“Yes. He wants me to open it for him. To drop you in.”

Like hell. And suddenly he understood why the pain in his chest had, if anything, been getting better, not worse. Hookeye didn’t want him dead. Not yet. What good was Kougar to him dead when another Feral would only be marked by the cougar? If he tossed him into the spirit trap, no cougar would ever come forth again.

Melisande flew at him, her ghostlike form pure energy as she attacked. She latched on to him, sucking him into her unnatural grip like a science-fiction tractor beam.

He shifted into his cat, the shift difficult and painful with her energy mixing with his; but he sprang away from her to turn and hiss, ears back.

Melisande flew at him again, turning to flesh just long enough to slice the blade deep through his shoulder. If she’d been a Mage, he’d have taken off her arm. He’d had the time. But Ariana...

His warrior queen yelled her fury and flew, not at him, but at Melisande. The two pulsing, mistlike figures collided in a spray of energy. Fighting, furious.

He could only watch, uncertain what was happening. What he needed to do was get back to Feral House and warn the others. He shifted back to a man. But as he reached for his armband to whisper the spell, the two Ilinas sprang apart, turning corporeal.

Kougar crouched, expecting another attack, but Melisande swayed on her feet, letting the knife drop from her fingers. Ariana sank to her knees, blood seeping from her pores like drops of sweat.

Goddess.

A wary eye on Melisande, Kougar reached cautiously for his mate.

“Ariana?”

She was doubled over, holding her middle, blood dripping onto the ground. “I beat back... Hookeye’s control. And took Melisande’s poison. It’s changed. It’s not what it was before. It’s darker. Stronger.” Her gaze flew to Melisande. “You’re okay?”

“Yes.” The petite blonde’s face had drained of color. “What about the others? Are you taking their poison, too?”

“I can’t...” Ariana’s eyes filled with anguish. “I’m trying, but it won’t come!”

Kougar brushed a lock of hair back from her bleeding temple. “He changed the poison so you couldn’t take it this time.”

“You took mine,” Melisande said. “You’re going to have to merge with them as you did me.”

“Find Brielle. Bring her to me.” As Ariana rose unsteadily to her feet, Kougar grabbed her arm, helping her. She looked up at him with fury and devastation. “Starving the poison should have worked!” Her hand went to the silver cuff, tearing it off her wrist and flinging it onto the rocks with a clatter, her face a mask of anguish. “How could I have turned to mist with the moonstones on?”

“The Mage are more powerful than they’ve ever been.” Powerful enough to change the poison already in Ariana. Powerful enough to...?

Kougar stilled. “Ariana, you’ve seen him in your mind. You’ve felt something strange going on in your head. What if it wasn’t the memory downloads you were feeling, but Hookeye?”

She looked at him sharply. “What do you mean?”

“What if some of what you’ve remembered wasn’t from the queens at all, but false memories planted by the sorcerer? At one time, you were sure the Ilinas had never been attacked by the Mage before. You blamed yourself, blamed us both for Hookeye’s original attack after you took me as your mate.”

Brow furrowing, she bent down and picked up her dress. “You think my new memories about other attacks, about starving the poison, were Hookeye’s doing? For just this reason... to make me lose control?” She pulled on her dress, a new horror filling her eyes as she met his gaze. “If you’re right, how do I know what’s real?”

He grabbed his pants. “Can we kill him?”

“No.” The word shot from her mouth without hesitation. Which told him all he needed to know.

“That’s what he wants you to think. It’s a lie. The only way to get him out of your head is to kill him.”

“You can’t know that.” But as he dressed, he could see her processing his words and watched as hatred leaped past the anguish in her eyes. “We kill him.”

Kougar nodded. “I’ve got to get back to Feral House to warn the others.”

“It’s too late.” Melisande appeared behind him. “The maidens have left. The Crystal Realm is empty but for us.”

Ariana’s gaze collided with his. Feral House. She sprang at him, turning to mist and catching him in her energy in a flash of light. Moments later, he felt grass beneath his feet, his head spinning even as he started running for the patio door. He could hear shouts of battle from inside Feral House. Shouts of pain.

Ariana materialized at the door. “Do you want Melisande’s help?”

He glanced back to find Ariana’s second standing where they’d landed, a wary expression on her face.

“Yes!”

The three rushed through the dining room together. They found the battle in the foyer, Lyon, Jag, and Vhyper in their animal forms, leaping at the mist warriors, attempting to strike during those seconds the maidens attacked with their knives. The floor was smeared with blood. And Wulfe was missing.

“Don’t kill them!” Kougar barked. “They’ve been enchanted. Melisande and Ariana are with me.” In a spray of light, he shifted into his cat, leaping at one of the Ilinas as she tried to strike Vhyper.

Melisande flew at Brielle as the latter was about to stab Lyon.

Out of the corner of his eye, Kougar saw Ariana lift her hands above her head. “Mel, hang on!” Then she began to chant fast and furiously. Two seconds later, the Ilinas disappeared, leaving nothing behind but cries of fury.

Even Ariana and Melisande were gone. Kougar searched for her through the mating bond, opened fully once more.

Ariana?

I remembered a warding to keep Ilinas out, Kougar. There was no time to explain. Feral House is safe.

Where are you?

Behind the house.

What of your maidens?

The others took off. Melisande has gone to find them.

Even telepathically, he could hear the devastation in her voice.

I’ll be right there. He shifted back to his human form.

“Wulfe and Paenther?” Kougar demanded as the other Ferals shifted.

“Neither was here.” Lyon turned to Jag. “Call them. Warn them.” His gaze met Kougar’s. “What the hell is going on?”

“Come.” Kougar strode through the house and out the back door, Lyon and Vhyper close behind him. Ariana waited, her skin and dress streaked with blood, her eyes shattered even as they radiated with a warrior’s fire.

Lyon’s eyes narrowed as he took in her appearance. “Explain.”

“I lost control of the poison,” Ariana told him. “My maidens are infected, except for Melisande. They’re controlled by the sorcerer who attacked us a thousand years ago. He sent them to capture you with hopes of dropping you into the spirit trap.”

“He failed.”

“For now.” Brittle eyes turned to him, breaking Kougar’s heart. She thought her friends were lost to her. That after fighting for so many centuries to save them, she’d failed.

He wouldn’t let that happen.

“I’ll get your Ferals out of the spirit trap.” Her voice was low, vibrating with a pain that sliced what was left of his heart into ribbons. Her gaze turned to him. “Then we go after Hookeye together. I don’t care if the entire Himalayan range comes tumbling down.” Her lips pulled back from her teeth. “I want him dead.”

Even in devastation, the warrior within her rose to the battle. He lifted his hand, an invitation born of a need to hold her, to comfort her, but she gave a small, tight shake of her head. This wasn’t the time for comfort.

Her eyes widened, a look of raw doubt shattering her warrior’s persona. “What if I don’t really know how to save them? What if the Crystal of Rayas is just another thing Hookeye planted in my head?”

“Then we kill Hookeye first.”

Melisande appeared in a rush of air that smelled of snow rather than pine. “They’re at the temple,” she stated without preamble. “The Mage have armed them and set them up as the first line of defense.” She looked at Ariana, her eyes almost as hollow as her queen’s. “The place is so thick with magic, I couldn’t get near it. There will be no misting in. They’ll snare us for certain.” She scowled. “I don’t know what they want with us.”

“Hookeye knows we’re coming after him.” Ariana’s voice shook.

Melisande frowned, confused. “Hookeye isn’t there, Ariana.”

Kougar froze. Ariana’s gaze collided with his.

“He’s gone?” Ariana demanded.

“He was never there.” Melisande shook her head, her brows still drawn. “Why did you think he was there?”

“I know he was there, Mel. Why do you think he wasn’t?”

“I...” Her eyes darted back and forth as if searching for the answer. “I just know.” She tilted her head. “Why do I think I know?”

“Shit,” Ariana said beside him, echoing his thought. “He’s done it to you, too. That original poison must have had some kind of magic in it that would keep us from ever finding him. How many times were you on his trail, then lost it at the last minute?”

Disbelief flashed in Melisande’s eyes. “Dozens. Are you trying to say I nearly had him all those times? That every time I got close, the magic kicked in to tell me he wasn’t there? And I walked away?”

“I’m sorry, Mel. He’s stronger than we knew. He’s always been stronger.”

Melisande’s jaw turned to stone. “And now he’s taken our people. All of them.”

“He probably knows we’re going to try to rescue the Ferals from the spirit trap. He’s going to make me cut down my own sisters to reach the temple.”

“Ariana...” Melisande’s shoulders bent as if bowed beneath the weight of grief. “They’re full of poison, now. They’re already dead to us.”

Ariana’s grief blazed down the mating bond, a cry of anger and devastation that crumbled his soul. Deep inside, his cat let out a howl of answering pain.

Ariana stood beside him, blood-soaked and too pale, her eyes alive with grief and anguish. It was all he could do not to pull her close or, at the very least, take her hand. But the iron in her eyes stayed his hand. Now was the time to fight.

“Mel, tell me about Queen Rayas,” Ariana demanded. “I have a memory of her standing atop the Temple of the Queens, channeling the energy of the Syphian Stream through this crystal to access the spirit trap.” She lifted the chunk of rock that still hung between her breasts. “Is the memory true?”

Melisande nodded. Kougar knew she’d lived in that time. “Rayas often went into the spirit trap, Ariana. That memory is true, I’m certain of it.”

Ariana turned to him. “Your friends are out of time, Kougar. I’ll go after them while you track down Hookeye.”

“We go together.”

“To the temple, yes. I’ll need you to help me break through the Mage...” Her face pinched. “... and my maidens. But once I’m through the gate to the Syphian Stream, you can’t follow.”

“I’ll kill Hookeye.”

“Yes.”

Teamwork. Something that had been severely lacking in their marriage once upon a time. But history was repeating itself, her maidens attacked, their queen desperate to save them. If they died, as she feared they would, it would once more be because of him. Because he’d ripped the moonstone cuff from her wrist and revealed her to her enemy. She’d blame him. Every time she saw his face, every time he tried to make love to her, she’d remember this day. The tragedy they both feared was about to unfold.

Any thought he might have had of a future with her hung on a very fragile thread.

His gaze captured Lyon’s. “The only way for Ariana to reach the spirit trap, and Hawke and Tighe, is through the temple. We’re going to need help.”

Lyon nodded and gave a shout for his warriors.

Ariana turned to Kougar. “Are you still feeling the poison?”

“Hardly at all. The bastard wants me to survive long enough to be captured in the spirit trap.”

“It’s not going to happen.”

Their gazes met, locked, fierce determination arcing between them. “No. It’s not.”

Within moments, all within Feral House were outside, gathered around. The Chief of the Ferals began issuing orders.

“Olivia, you’re in charge here. I’m counting on you, Ewan, and Delaney to guard our Radiant with your lives.”

A soft growl rumbled from Jag’s throat, but Olivia’s eyes lit like beacons. “You have my vow, Lyon. No one will harm her.”

“Good. The rest of us are going to the Ilinas’ earthbound temple in the Himalayas. The Temple of the Queens. Arm yourselves.” Lyon turned to Melisande. “I need you to pick up two of my warriors and bring them to us. Wulfe’s gone to Harpers Ferry. Paenther’s on the Eastern Shore. I’ll warn them you’re coming.”

Melisande nodded.

As Lyon pulled out his cell phone, Kougar saw Jag slip his arm around Olivia’s neck, pulling her close. “A few days ago, I thought he was going to kill you,” Jag murmured to his mate. “Now he puts you in charge of Feral House and his mate.”

Olivia looked up at him, her mouth struggling to contain the smile leaping from her eyes. “You jealous?”

A slow grin spread across the jaguar shifter’s face. “Hell no, woman. I’m proud. Just don’t let it go to your head, Red.” He kissed her temple, a slow, gentle kiss that throbbed with love and an aching need to protect that Kougar understood all too well. “Be careful.”

“You, too.”

A moment later, Lyon glanced at Melisande. “Paenther’s ready. Wulfe’s finding a place to park the car where his disappearance won’t be seen by humans.” He turned to Ariana. “Are you able to transfer the rest of us, Queen Ariana?”

“I am.”

Lyon’s gaze snapped to Kougar. “Anything else?”

“No.”

“Then let’s do it! It’s high time we got Tighe and Hawke home.”

CHAPTER 21

The wind whipped at Ariana’s thin dress, plastering it against the side of her body, tossing her hair into her eyes as she stared up at the golden temple from the path below. The sun escaped the clouds for one brief moment, setting the ivory temple afire before the shadows doused the brilliance once more.

Ariana felt light, literally, as if with the dissemination of the poison she’d lost forty pounds. And perhaps she had. But her heart felt heavy with grief and the leaden fear that her maidens were going to die.

And Kougar... No. She couldn’t fear for him, too, or she wouldn’t be able to function. The Ferals would win this battle. She had to believe that.

If only she’d called on their aid from the start, the moment her maidens started dying.

Hookeye had always been stronger than she’d realized. At last she knew, from the vantage point of distance and hindsight, that the Ilinas had never had a chance of defeating him on their own. She should have turned to Kougar in those days, not away.

If only.

Instead, she’d put them both through hell. And her maidens were all going to die anyway.

Kougar stood beside her, his shoulder inches from her own. She’d asked him not to touch her, and he’d seemed to understand that if he cradled her now, as she really wanted him to, if he offered too much sympathy, she might crumble, the wild grief inside her taking her down. She had to stay strong. Shoulder to shoulder, he held her up, lending her the strength to fight the battle to come.

Melisande appeared with the last of the Ferals. Wulfe, she thought this one was called. The shifter stood for a full ten seconds before dropping to one knee to retch on the rocks beside the others.

As the Ferals shook off the effects of the travel, Ariana started up the path, needing a moment alone. She reached the spot where she could see the temple yard just as the sun came out again. Flashes of steel glittered across the grounds, the swords held by her maidens, her friends. Dozens of them stood like automatons scattered in rough lines, their eyes blank with enthrallment.

Brielle stood with her dark hair loose and flying around her shoulders in the cold wind. Ariana’s stomach felt as if it were being hollowed out with a blade. What kind of monster would force her to cut down her own people to reach him? Then again, as Melisande said, they were already dead. The poison she’d protected them from for so long would steal their lives as surely as Hookeye had stolen their wills.

Her eyes burned, tears escaping to be whisked from her cheeks by the cold wind. Grief pummeled her, leaving raw bruises on her heart that she knew would never heal.

How would she survive such a loss a second time? There would be no one left but Melisande. Two to renew a race. They could do it, of course. She alone could call the magic of rebirth and bring forth new Ilinas upon the Altar of Life, now that she could turn to mist again. She and Melisande would teach them what they needed to know.

But even as her mind set forth what she must do, her heart shattered at the need to do it. How could she go on without Brielle and Getrill and the others? She would, because she’d have no choice.

Goddess, it will destroy me.

The wind raked at her hair and her thin gown, the cold of the air no match for the bitter cold she felt within.

She felt Kougar move beside her, felt his hand slide under her hair to curve around the back of her neck. Warmth. Strength. He gave her both and more, grounding her, pulling her back to the here and now.

Taking a shuddering breath, she felt the cold abyss move away. For the moment.

She could not lose him, too. On the most fundamental level, she needed him. Her life would never be right without him. She knew that now.

But could he ever forgive her for betraying him all those years ago? Could he ever learn to trust her as he trusted his Feral brothers? Could he ever come to love her again as she loved him?

His warm fingers kneaded the tension in her neck. “We’ll guard you and get you in there,” he said quietly.

“No.” She fingered the sword gripped tight in her hand, the sword she’d demanded from him at Feral House. Glancing over her shoulder, she briefly met his gaze. “I’ll fight my way in there just as you will.”

As she turned back to face the yard, his hand fell away, to be replaced a moment later by a light pressure on the top of her head, the brush of his chin. “My warrior queen,” he murmured, barely loud enough for her to hear.

His words strengthened her, his simple, soft use of the word my lifting her heart in hope.

“That’s the last fucking time I’m traveling by Ilina,” Jag muttered, as the Ferals joined them.

“Any sign of Hookeye?” Kougar asked her.

“No.” She’d been so focused on her own maidens, she hadn’t really looked; but as her gaze moved back to the temple, she saw only a few scattered Mage and none who looked like the one she wanted dead. He was probably tucked safely in his laboratory, in the room where he’d been in his dream, working at his table on whatever magic would best destroy the Ferals.

She glanced at Kougar and found him watching her, pain in his eyes mixed with a deep, caring warmth.

“You’re hurting,” she murmured.

His knuckles brushed her cheek. “For you.”

The constricting band tightened around her chest, pricking her eyes with tears, forcing her to turn away before she gave in to the terrible need to pour out her grief within the circle of his strong arms.

Kougar turned to his men. “No killing. The Ilinas are enthralled and not our enemies. Killing too many Mage could cause an earthquake that would destroy the temple and make it impossible to reach Hawke and Tighe. The only one who dies is Hookeye, and Ariana and I are the only ones who know what he looks like.”

“Stay alert,” Lyon added. “These bastards have access to a spirit trap, and they want us in it.”

“They’re not getting what they want,” Jag snarled.

Wulfe grunted. “Hell, no.”

“Just keep your eyes and senses open,” Lyon added.

Kougar palmed the top of Ariana’s head, then slid his hand down her hair. “Be careful.”

She blinked hard against the flood of warm caring she felt in his touch. “You, too.” She couldn’t meet his gaze, or the tears would get the better of her. But he gripped her shoulders and turned her to him, kissing her with a quick, passionate meeting of lips.

Through the mating bond, she felt a burst of tangled emotions. Fear and fury, savage determination and aching tenderness.

Unable to resist, she met his gaze and fell into those fierce pale eyes.

“We’re going to win, Ariana. We’re going to beat him.” He kissed her forehead. “Come back to me.”

Hope bloomed inside her with a fragrant beauty. “Yes. And you to me.”

Beside them, Lyon lifted his arm toward the temple.

“Go!”

Kougar touched her face for one tender moment, then moved behind her, strong and protective at her back. With a fierce cry, the Feral Warriors, Melisande, and Ariana raced into battle.

With one hand, Kougar swung his sword, parrying the blows of the enthralled Ilinas, while with his other he grabbed slender wrists or feminine necks, and tossed his petite assailants far from the field of battle. The falls might hurt the Ilinas, but any injuries sustained would heal quickly enough. And for a few minutes, the women would be out of the way of slashing swords. For once, the Ferals weren’t fighting in their animal forms but their human since they didn’t want to hurt, let alone kill, their unwilling opponents.

The Ilinas were quick, deadly little fighters, but the magic thick around the temple was holding them all to flesh and blood. Unable to turn to mist, they’d lost the advantage of surprise, their speed and strength no match for the Feral Warriors’. Still, they fought with the single-mindedness of puppets in the hands of a puppet master.

Paenther and Vhyper fought as a team, falling back into the natural rhythm they’d always had. Kougar was glad to see it. Vhyper hadn’t been himself since Paenther helped him reclaim his soul. But maybe there was hope for the Feral, yet.

On his other side, Ariana fought, refusing to stay protected within their ranks. She’d always been a warrior, but her skill was a hundred times greater than the last time he’d seen her, reminding him that she’d been a woman on her own for far too long. With her blue satin gown splotched purple with blood, her skin blood-streaked, and her hair a wild tumble around her shoulders, she reminded him of a warrior queen of old, her eyes fierce and glowing.

Never had she looked more beautiful. Never had he loved her more.

One of the Mage sentinels broke through the ranks of Ilinas, his blue tunic rippling in the wind, his sword flashing with the sun’s fire. Kougar took him on with a vengeance, funneling his fury into the first combatant he’d been able to fight... and hurt... without compunction. In the Mage’s eyes, he saw no light of battle, no emotion at all.

Дата добавления: 2015-10-31