Wrath: Amok as fabled Hekate, eyes spitting like burned elm she rails against me, set ablaze by spite, snake-fisted, fierce with scourges, now she promises to flay the skin from off my back, vows torments Nero blanched at. If she finds me, she will surely murder me, trample my spine beneath her perfumed heel. I cower and hide, and in an ecstasy of dread, I fear she will not find me.
Sayfa 5 - Book II, Chapter XIIKitabı okudu
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