The Golden Visit
The gold thread was cold, colder than the ink-stained parchment beneath Elias’s trembling fingers, and it pulsed with a faint, rhythmic heat that matched the erratic beating of his own failing heart. He held it tight, the woven strands biting into the skin of his palm, a talisman of pure, unadulterated gold that mirrored the dark, twisted veins visible through the translucent skin of his wrist....
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews