Dallas's expression remains stoic, but I can sense the wheels turning in his mind as he processes Amara's description of the silver tree. "Sounds like The Enchanted Grove," he murmurs, his voice tinged with both apprehension and determination. "It's a thing of myth. Nobody has ever been there, nor has it been sighted. So, nobody believes that it exists."
Amara's eyes widen with surprise at Dallas's words, a mixture of uncertainty and curiosity flickering in her gaze. "But... I've seen it, my love. In my dreams, it feels so real," she murmurs, her voice tinged with disbelief.
Tristan's hand tightens around mine, a silent gesture of solidarity amidst the growing tension in the room. "Dreams can sometimes be more than just figments of our imagination," he remarks, his tone measured yet reso
