Tiberius’s pov.

The moment she opened her eyes, I knew something fundamental had changed.

Freya—if it was still truly Freya—sat up with the grace of a queen and the control of a predator. Her breathing was steady, like she hadn’t just fought through death. Her hair, once golden like firelight, now fell in long, white waves down her back. One eye was still the warm gold I remembered. The other glowed brown like it was lit from within.

She was radiant.

She was ...