Page 807 of Fated Mates of Breeder Prison

The way she took command of the dreamscape was reminiscent of something I’d taught her months ago — the art of manipulating one’s surroundings within the dream realm.

It was a nifty trick, a survival skill that had saved us numerous times.

What she did last night was beyond anything I had seen, or taught her.

The abrupt shattering of the dreamscape, the potent shockwave she’d released — it was raw, untamed power.

Power that I didn’t even know she possessed.

I thought about her again, a flood of emotions washing over me.

Pride, awe, fear, and a fierce protectiveness.

She was so much more than the timid girl I’d met a short while ago, the one who had been so wary of diving into the abstract territories of dreamscapes.

She was a force to be reckoned with, and I felt incredibly fortunate to have her by my side.

Still, something gnawed at the back of my mind.

Grace’s outburst had caused more than just a shockwave.

I found myself changing direction and headed toward Uhah’s cell.

The door had been left open and I couldn’t help but creep up to it and glance in.

My mouth felt dry, I wasn’t sure if I hoped to see what might be there or not.

As I shoved the door open, the meager light from the outside windows cast a thick blanket of light over the back wall.

The crack was there.

I had to steady myself for fear I might lose balance.

I had expected it to be there — after all, the dreamworld could only reflect what was in the real world — but I still had to see it for myself.

It had to be an anomaly.

It was a phenomenon I had never encountered before, nor did I think was even possible.

I had heard tales of dream wanderers who could manipulate both dream and reality, but I had always dismissed them as mere folklore, tales told to entertain young dreamers.

Now, I had witnessed it.

I had seen the impossible become possible.

What did it mean?

Was it dangerous?

And more importantly, how could we fix it?

Lost in a dense forest of thoughts, I was barely aware of my surroundings as I turned a corner and ran into someone.

A firm hand gripped my shoulder, spinning me around and pushing me into a shallow alcove.

My back hit the wall hard, and I found myself staring into the hateful eyes of Fleth.

The memory of our last encounter was fresh — his humiliation in the pit, the laughing crowd, the white cloth that had momentarily brought his worst fears to the surface.

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