The Golden Ritual
The flour dust hung in the air like a fine, white snow, settling on the shoulders of Elias Thorne as if the universe itself were trying to smother him. He stood in the center of the bakery, the heart of the city’s most prestigious commercial district, and he was screaming, though no sound came out, only a dry, rasping effort that tore at his throat like rusted wire. The ovens behind him roared,...
0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 1 Visualizações 0 Anterior