Freya‘s pov.

Freya jolted awake, breath caught in her throat, heart hammering like a war drum. The world around her was shrouded in shadows, pierced only by the soft, flickering light of a dying campfire. Her hands clutched at the soft earth, the cold blades of grass brushing her skin. For a moment, she was caught between dream and reality, the weight of something forgotten pressing against her chest.

She sat up slowly, letting her eyes adjust to the gloom.

There he ...