FREYA

Thick green vines shot up from the soil. They wrapped around my ankle before I could even shout. The pull was sudden and vicious, yanking me off balance. I hit the dirt hard, air rushing out of my lungs.

“Freya!” Kian’s voice cut through the chaos.

I twisted, fingers scrabbling for the knife at my belt. The vine tightened, dragging me toward a cluster of roots that opened and closed like it was hungry. Another vine snaked toward my wrist. I slashed at the first one. The blade bit ...