Thalia’s POV:
The dream clung to me—the searing of the sun, the jeering crowd, the way my knees had hit the floor when I confessed that it was I who healed the girl.
The worst part?
The kiss of the axe still burned against my neck while I was still trying to recover from the nightmare I had just witnessed. My hands moved slowly to my neck, wrapping around it and searching if there was a wound or a mark from the axe to prove it was truly just a dream and I hadn’t just woken up in the afterlife.
Because it felt real. Too too real.
But there was nothing. Only the cold sweat clinging to my body and the echo of my own ragged breaths.
I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the remnants of the nightmare away. The sun had been so bright in the dream—blinding, merciless—but now, only the pale
