The Black Wolf's Breed
A shroud of consuming terror now possessed me. I crouched in the dank corner clutching my sword, listening, vainly listening, for some sound out of which to conjure up an assassin. A rat ran across my foot. Screaming out I bounded erect and beat about me with blind desperation. One hand touched the other and shrank from its mate. They were as ice.
/0/26291/coverorgin.jpg?v=80c448eae65eb5676ca1dc553e5dee74&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/77278/coverorgin.jpg?v=e33b5a48fd64490b6c3dab31c8798b9a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/93997/coverorgin.jpg?v=ad7c2a32c5e7bb960467f306cc21ba72&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/75796/coverorgin.jpg?v=7fa49608a32ed5c0cfde642b9545384e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/99873/coverorgin.jpg?v=5f3a8eea2ddc4cc04ec365e9e6315d23&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/89821/coverorgin.jpg?v=681302756fb85c85eec85d2da79fc5ac&imageMogr2/format/webp)