CHAPTER THREE
Ash.
Jovanna stood on a blackened field. As far as she could see, there was nothing but a smoldering, charred landscape. Scorched bones littered the area. The smell of burnt flesh—and death—filled her nostrils. It was overwhelming. She dropped to her knees and vomited.
Inhale. Exhale.
Jovanna repeated the words in her mind and her body obeyed. She wiped the back of her hand across her lips and spat the vile taste from her mouth. She was stronger than this; better than this. She staggered to her feet and immediately felt her strength drain from her. It was all she could do to remain standing. Tremors ran through every muscle in her body. It was a weakness like she had never experienced. A pounding ache in her head reverberated behind her eyes.
The weakness was undeniable,
