Chapter 38. Mama

VESTA

The wind howled hungrily, stealing my breath as the snow lashed at me from all directions. Everything around me was white—an endless, blinding wasteland. But there, in the chaos of the blanche storm, smears of red appeared, like blood splattered on a blank canvas, the only color in this frozen abyss.

My heart raced as I frantically checked my body for injuries. But there was none. The blood wasn’t mine.

I exhaled a breath of relief, the cold turning it into frost before it disappeared into the storm. With renewed focus, I tried to make sense of the world around me, but the snow stung my eyes, and the wind pushed against me like I was nothing more than a forgotten scrap of fabric tossed away, weak, and fragile.

Through the storm, I spotted a figure—a man in glistening armor battling unseen enemies. His movements were familiar, stirring something deep inside me, a sense of recognition I couldn’t place.

I struggled to stand, shaking off the snow that