Freya‘s pov.

I woke up slowly, as if dragging myself from the bottom of an ocean. My limbs were heavy, but my mind was even heavier—echoing with voices, memories, and... silence. Blessed silence. For once, Reyna and Hera weren’t screaming. Maybe they were resting, maybe the shaman's work had calmed the storm. For now.

The first thing I saw was him. The shaman.

He sat beside my bed, calm as ever, sipping some steaming tea from a rough clay cup. His eyes met mine, warm ...