This is not a good time to find out I am totally full of shit. I’m not the brave, daring Freya who can kill her own mate. I’m not my mother fearlessly taking on anyone who might dare cause her trouble. “Prove it,” he had growled. Prove I love him by accepting whatever degrading plan he has for my body. I’m terrified. Shaking, to the very core. I haven’t slept since returning to my room. Each hour that passes by has me pacing the floor. The awful pink silk dress was immediately discarded, the golden ornaments flung onto the table. My skin itched and burned. The image of the poor Beta being murdered, purely for hearing a vulnerability in his Alpha was just further proof that the man I considered my soulmate was long gone. What remains? Merely a husk of a man, driven by his purple-eyed wolf to commit atrocities in the name of obsession. /There is still a chance for Asgard to save us yet. To talk to Phillipe/ Livi murmurs but her words are hollow. The only way to bring down my heartbea

Freya has taken my breath away a fair few times. This one rocked me to my bones. My beautiful girl stands statue-like in the centre of the room with her back to me. Hidden by shadows, her chocolate curls tumble down past her shoulders, a tattered, shitty pink silk slip barely covering her. The only part of her moving were her trembling, furled hands as they gripped the hem of the slip by her hips. On the floor lies Phillipe. Not moving and getting greyer every second. Lighting the room was the dull, reddish glow of the blood moon. I scramble to my feet and fumblingly try to understand the darkly frozen scene before me. Snapping back into life Freya quickly takes off the ring and throws it down onto his lifeless body before breathing quickly, so rapid and ragged she might be falling into a panic attack.. /Softly, remember how we hurt Finn./ “Freya, I’m here.” “I know,” she whispered back, her voice breaking. “Don’t look at me,” Slowly I take another step forward but the crunching

I fell asleep in his arms and for the first time, woke up to find him still there. I smiled, realising I was nestled in the crook of his arm, my hair a messy tangle of wild curls sprawling across his chest. From the arm I had draped across him, I could see the red welts were vanishing. Now they are just faint silvery lines of past pain. Drifting away like a bad dream. /I’m still working on getting rid of all the marks, be patient/ Livi mentioned quickly /I was distracted/Dickstracted, I corrected her as the scent of the salve in the air made a fresh blush race across my smiling face.Zeke shifted lazily in his sleep and the temptation to repay the sleepy, sensual torture he gave me was irresistable. Except duty calls. I have no idea how long Phillipe has been dead but there is a pack waiting to be run. No doubt proclamations to sign, warrants to stamp. Here I am having a nap.“I can feel you stressing out,” he grumbled, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. His fresh stubble gave hi

I half expected fear to course through my bones when that crowd turned hostile. But Zeke never let go of my hand, never abandoned me for a second. Whilst we walked I noticed him watching me, slyly staring at my bump and it made me feel like a Goddess. /WIll our baby have his gorgeous olive skin or my huge curls? Maybe both/ Livi cooed for the thousandth time.When he stood up for me and reminded the pack members how they had all stood silent and backed a warmonger I couldn't have felt prouder. Pinton village was pretty and quaint, nearly everything vertical wall covered in purple flowering wisteria, despite the autumn chill. The local women soon advised us of a house that was empty for Zeke and I to rest in rather than return to the castle. I’d happily never return. I’ve nothing but sour, ruined memories there now.Doctor Thatcher is pleased with the baby, I only have another five months to go and I’ll be a Luna and a mother. Everything should be perfect and happy. Except I know this

So what if we’re not mates? Like it matters! She came to me the night of the Ceremony for a reason. I can still see the way she strode towards me, licking those red lips, her dress daring and low cut, showing off every curve. Everyone assumed she was Cillian's date but no, she chose me. She always tries to keep it light, breezy with her ability to just vanish whenever the hell she chooses. The last few times we’ve hooked up I haven’t been able to play the same game. I can’t pretend anymore, I want her. To have her heart, it would feel like winning the gold medal in every possible sport. The ultimate victory. Shit, I’d take such good care of her. I’d adore every inch of her, every day. I know exactly how she likes to be fucked too. Hard, rough. A frenzy of mutual nipping, scratching and thrusting as she lets go all over my cock. But she doesn’t want me. Or she thinks she doesn’t anyway. There’s still time. Shouting how I love her has just scared her that’s all. She’ll come round.