Tiberius pov.

I hadn’t stopped moving since I left Dorian.

The terrain blurred past in streaks of gray and green, every heartbeat pulsing with urgency. My muscles burned from the relentless pace, my lungs ragged, but I didn’t care. I had to get back to her. To Freya. Every second away from her felt like an invitation for disaster.

Ravenhold’s gates rose before me in the dusky light. Familiar stone, tall and proud, but something felt... off. Wrong. The air was ...