The moment Isabella realized that the place they had rolled into wasn't normal, she stopped breathing for half a second.
Not because she was scared.
But because the scene before her was genuinely something out of a dream.
The moss beneath them wasn't moss at all.
It was soft.
Too soft.
Silky.
Like cotton clouds had been torn apart and laid perfectly on the ground.
Pale strands of shimmering fiber grew in tangled layers, forming soft blankets that cushioned their fall.
No wonder they lived.
No wonder she didn't crack her skull open because of Osiris' stupidity.
Isabella sat up slowly, still glaring at him, but now distracted enough to blink around in shock.
"What is this," she whispered.
Osiris lifted his head, just enough to follow her gaze. "I do not know."
