Freya‘s pov.

We were four now, our small party pressing forward through the ever-shifting shadows of Alaric’s nightmare world. Dorian carried Reyna in his arms, unwavering in his care, while I kept glancing back, watching Reyna struggle with every breath. She was conscious but weak, her head resting on Dorian’s chest. The sight filled me with guilt and protectiveness.

Tiberius called out, his voice echoing in the void, “Hera! Hera, where are you?”

But there was no ...