Trace had barely opened his eyes when he raced to the edge of his–much smaller, still-in-progress–dream world. Anaisa had hobbled to bed with Sapphira supporting her some time earlier, so it was entirely possible that she already—
Yes!
There was her glowing orb, right where it should be.
She had invited him during the ball. Had she meant the invitation? He dearly hoped so. Stepping into her world deftly, Trace took stock of his surroundings.
A dark canvas of a dream, in greys and browns. Almost colorless. In the distance, he heard crying. He rushed towards the sound, and found his wife with a bear trap around her ankle, the chain of it being held by a man who looked like a younger version of Oakdown.
As she cried, the man yanked occasionally on the chain, causing her to fall to the ground.
