The Golden Quest
The iron shackle had grown into the skin of Elias Thorne’s wrist, a rust-colored scar that pulsed with a dull, throbbing heat whenever the sun dipped below the horizon. It was a thing he had worn for so long that he could no longer distinguish the weight of the metal from the weight of his own blood. In the high tower of the Blackwood estate, where the wind whistled through cracks in the...
0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews