Dorian‘s pov.

The dreamscape was endless. A vast labyrinth of shadow and memory, twisting on itself with every step I took. What had once seemed like a pit of blackness had transformed into this maze of confusion and despair. I didn’t know how long I’d been wandering—minutes, hours, days? Time had no meaning here. Only the need to find Freya kept me going, that and the ache in my chest that refused to let me rest.

I moved through corridors of mist and half-formed shapes, ...