Chapter 29

Freya's POV

I stood frozen, staring at the wounded Ethan lying on the misty forest floor. Blood seeped from his chest, staining his torn shirt crimson. His face was contorted in pain, his hand reaching out toward me.

"Freya..." he gasped, his voice weak and ragged. "Help me... please..."

My heart contracted painfully in my chest, a physical ache that spread through my entire body. My wolf, usually so brave and fierce, cowered inside me, whimpering at the sight of our Alpha injured and vulnerable. The shock of seeing him like this was so overwhelming that my body instinctively shifted back to human form, my fur receding, leaving me feeling even more exposed and vulnerable.

My hands trembled as I stared at him, every fiber of my being wanting to rush to his side. The urge to comfort him, to protect him, was almost overpowering. I took an involuntary step forward before forcing myself to stop.

"No," I whispered, my voice shaking. "This isn't real. You're not the real Ethan." My paw had only swiped at his face, but his wound now appeared on his chest.

"Why does seeing him hurt make me feel this way, even knowing it's an illusion?" I asked myself, surprised by the depth of my reaction. The pain in my chest felt too real, too raw to be simply for a phantom.

I stumbled back a few steps, watching as his face grew paler, his expression more desperate. The sight was unbearable, like a knife twisting in my gut.

"Ethan's" voice grew weaker. "Freya, please... I need you... don't leave me..."

As I stared at him, a realization dawned on me. This wasn't just a test of direction or perseverance. The Mist Forest was testing something deeper—my heart, my attachments, my ability to distinguish between comforting illusions and harsh reality.

The forest was offering me what part of me wanted: to be needed by Ethan, to be important to him. It was a seductive illusion, more powerful than any physical obstacle could be.

I felt my unborn child move slightly within me, a gentle reminder of what was truly at stake. This small life depended on me to be strong, to see clearly, to continue forward.

"For my child," I whispered, gathering my resolve. "I have to keep going."

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, shutting out the heartbreaking vision before me. Without sight, I relied on my other senses—the subtle air currents, the faint sounds of the forest, the lingering scent of the rune-marked path I'd been following.

With my eyes still firmly closed, I began to walk forward, away from the illusion. Each step was agonizing, like pulling against an invisible tether that connected me to the vision of Ethan. Behind me, his voice became more desperate, more pained.

"Freya! Don't leave me! I'm dying... I can't survive without you!"

My steps faltered as his cries grew more anguished. Every instinct in my body screamed at me to turn back, to help him, to ease his suffering. The wolf inside me whined, torn between the need to help our Alpha and the knowledge that this wasn't real.

"That's not real," I reminded myself through gritted teeth, tears streaming down my face despite my closed eyes. "The real Ethan doesn't need me. He chose Riley. He wants to end our bond."

And yet, even as I spoke the harsh truth aloud, each step away from him felt like walking on broken glass. The emotional pain was physical now, my chest burning as if the connection between us was being stretched to breaking point.

"Freya..." his voice was softer now, more broken. "Why are you so cold? Why won't you help me?"

I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood, using the sharp pain to ground myself. "I'm sorry, Ethan," I said, not stopping, not looking back. "I need to move forward—for myself and for my baby."

Each step became a battle between my heart and my mind. The rational part of me knew this was an illusion, a test designed to trap me in the forest. But my emotional side, the part that still cared for Ethan despite everything, fought against every step that took me further away from him.

I don't know how long I walked with my eyes closed, guided only by instinct and determination. Eventually, I realized the voice had stopped. The forest had fallen silent again, the only sound my own labored breathing and the soft crunch of leaves beneath my feet.

Cautiously, I opened my eyes.

As I emerged from the thickest part of the fog, I found myself standing at the edge of a lake I'd never seen before. The water stretched before me, eerily still and shimmering with an otherworldly silver light. The mist hovered just above its surface, creating an ethereal boundary between air and water.

The moon, partially visible through breaks in the fog above, cast its light across the lake's surface. But something was strange about the reflection—instead of simply mirroring the moon's position, the light formed a distinct pathway across the water, leading toward the center of the lake.

I studied the phenomenon carefully, noticing how the moonlight created a perfect line of silver on the water's surface. "This can't be natural," I murmured, circling the edge of the lake to get a better view.

Then understanding dawned on me. "That's it! This is why the second trial has a three-hour time limit."

I looked up at the moon's position in the sky, then back to its reflection in the water. "The moon has to be at this exact angle for the reflection to form this path. Once it moves..."

I didn't finish the thought. If I'd wasted too much time with the illusions, or gotten lost in the forest, I would have missed this crucial alignment. The path would have disappeared, and I would have failed the trial, possibly wandering the Mist Forest until the search party came to retrieve me.

"Time is limited," I realized, gazing at the silver path that stretched before me. Without hesitation, I waded into the cool water, following the moonlight's guidance.

The water was surprisingly comfortable, neither too cold nor too warm. As I moved deeper, something strange happened—though I was fully submerged, I found I could breathe normally. The water felt different around me, almost as if it were infused with the same magical moonlight that formed the path.

I swam downward, following the shimmering trail as it led deeper into the lake. The further I descended, the brighter the path became, illuminating the otherwise dark waters with its silver glow.

At the bottom of the lake, the path guided me to the altar, where a massive golden object was placed. As I swam closer, I could make out its shape—round, about the size of a basketball, with intricate scale-like patterns covering its surface. It emanated a warm, golden light that contrasted with the silver of the moonlight path.

My eyes widened in astonishment as I recognized what I was seeing.

"A dragon egg!"