REGAN'S HOUSE
I was tangled in a restless sleep when the nightmare seized me. Images of Magnus filled my mind—haunted, wounded, and pleading for help. His face twisted in agony, his lips forming silent words I couldn't hear. The darkness around him grew thicker, suffocating, until I jolted awake, screaming.
The bedroom door flew open, and Regan rushed in, his eyes wide with concern. "Aria! What's wrong?"
I sat up, clutching the sheets, my breath ragged. "I had a terrible dream about Magnus. Something's wrong, Regan. I can feel it."
Regan sat beside me, his hand firm on my shoulder. "Dreams can be warnings, Aria. If you feel this strongly, you should go to him. But maybe after breakfast? You need your strength."
I shook my head vehemently. "I can't wait, Regan. I need to see him now."
