Damon slowly tore himself free from the vines that had pierced his flesh. Each pull left shallow wounds that stung as sap and shadow mixed along his skin.
He gasped softly, clutching his chest, his heart constricted in pain, the image of his mother's final expression burning in his mind.
He could still feel her anguish. Even knowing she wasn't real just an illusion didn't make it any easier. It had been the most beautiful illusion he'd ever known.
Above him, golden roots pulsed faintly as the tree freed his body.
Damon's eyes lifted to the wide lake spread before him. He didn't even remember crossing it, nor how he'd been taken into the tree's depths. Only that he had been in danger, and somehow his own mind had pulled him from the dream.
But the gaze was still there.
The entity perched among the crimson branches watched him silently. It had long fur and a vaguely human form, though its outline was blurred, as if backlit by a blinding light that hid its features.
