With Leriana leading the way, they moved through the palace’s deepest corridors. With each step, the magic grew more ancient and dense, as if the very walls remembered a time when that place had been the beating heart of the fae world.
Lissana knew where she was going even before she arrived.
She recognized the path, the gentle turn of the corridor, the air filled with a faint and familiar scent. It was the room from her dreams.
The doors opened silently.
Inside, the light was white and soft, filtering like mist between columns covered with withered vines. In the center of the room, surrounded by white flowers that barely retained their glow, was the bed.
And on it, Tarik.
He slept motionless, just as she had seen him time and again in her dreams. His expression was serene, but there
