Ardyn POV

It began as a tremor.

A pulse through the dreamweb that ran beneath the skin of the world.

I felt it before I remembered what I was.

A thousand hearts, beating in sync. A thousand whispers, all calling the same name mine.

Ardyn.

The name rippled through time, pulling me from the golden quiet I’d built myself into.

Not the goddess. Not the monster. Not the queen of blood and mirrors.

Just the memory of what once burned.

And memory, when loved hard enough, becomes alive.

When ...