Whoever manages to imprint with you will claim you as their own. So, Freya of Moonlit, consider submitting to me.
— Gabriel
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She quickly averted her gaze, fixing her eyes on anything but the moon that brought her fears to the surface once again.
It felt like she was teetering on the edge of madness. Or perhaps, she was already there.
Freya couldn't comprehend what was happening to her.
She wanted to cry, but it felt as though her tears had run dry. The endless torment had drained her of the ability to weep.
She was a shell of her former self, trapped in a nightmare from which there seemed to be no escape.
Freya's heart nearly jumped out of her chest when the familiar sound of footsteps entered the room.
Even without looking, she could already guess who the man coming to see her at this hour was.
Gabriel Moonfire, the son of Fenrir.
What more could he want?
