Garkash stood on the low rise behind his warband, his massive shoulders heaving, the bone crown on his head tilted slightly. He pointed a thick finger at the tall figure cutting through his ranks like wheat. "What is that tall woman, Jibreel?"
The shaman had just released a dark blast from the ancestral staff of bone and yellowed teeth to knock her down.
The moment his eyes locked on Gabriella, he knew exactly what she was—an Angel.
Overpowered, self-righteous agents of heaven who had slaughtered Orc-kind for centuries whenever the mood took them.
Jibreel had lived more than two hundred years by feeding infants and virgins to the old rites that kept his flesh from rotting. He was probably the only living thing on this field who had ever seen one of them before and lived to speak of it.
