FOR PAID SUBS: Chapter 2 of Ezekiel Creed (Available Sept. 25th)

A low, golden glow pulsed through the darkness, wrapping around Ezekiel Creed’s battered body like the last warmth of a dying sun. The cold that had gnawed at his bones began to ebb away slowly, chased away by something softer—gentler. His limbs, stiff and bruised, twitched against unseen silks. Pain bloomed in every nerve; his wounds ached with dull fire. Blood still crusted his lips, but the coppery taste was fading. In its place came the heavy sweetness of incense—myrrh and spikenard, sacred and ancient—filling the air like a priest’s absolution whispered through a cracked censer.