Chapter Seven
The dreams; they were an endless source of pain. After watching Black
Mountain engulfed in a fiery blaze for perhaps the billionth time, Saras
forced his eyes open again.
He let out a desperate roar that shook the walls of his cells.
That last image his subconscious had served up to him was the final straw.
No longer did his dreams end with the memory of Gillian's death, they now
predicted a different tragedy. Different and yet all the same.
Rhea.
He looked down to check for her blood on his hands, but his palms
and fingers were clean. Of course they were. He had only dreamed it, after
all.
Saras shook his head and started to pace his cell. If he stayed here for
another moment, he'd lose whatever was left of his mind.
He had been consigned to his fate for so lon
