Frey breathed a sigh and all at once Loren's strength would deplete. The muscles of his legs would weaken and give out and even finding his breath would be hard. His magical reserves, near limitless as they were would now run dry. Mouth parched, head aching from exhaustion and weariness, the god's fingers pulled tighter into the Launceleyn's blonde hair. Around him voices from his past called to him: Colbrande, Zariah, Cyton.
Come on Loren. Give in and the pain will go away They sneered.
Cuts covered Loren's body with each word; all the scars once removed now branded back against his skin. And still Frey tugged and tickled at his senses, the urge to run and hide rising like a tower .
Come on Loren. Give in and the pain will go away They sneered.
Cuts covered Loren's body with each word; all the scars once removed now branded back against his skin. And still Frey tugged and tickled at his senses, the urge to run and hide rising like a tower .
FREY
