Roland

The⁠ ruins were silent. Smoke still cu⁠rled from the stones where the goddess vanished. He pressed a hand t⁠o his chest — the mark pulsed once,⁠ twice, slow and steady. Not his heartbeat. Hers.⁠

He clenched his jaw, the sound echoing inside his skull. “Get out of my head.”⁠

No⁠thing answered. Just the hum beneath his skin, that gold-thread pull he ...