Freya knew she would have collapsed if not for the Alpha's firm grip steadying her. Still reeling from the pain, she was gently lowered into a chair, where a heavy sadness settled over her like a suffocating blanket, tears streaming down her face.
"Are you alright?" The Alpha asked, a frown etched onto his face, but Freya could only respond with sobs, unable to contain her anguish. Her heart felt shredded, engulfed in a despair so profound she questioned the worth of continuing to live.
Clutching her chest as if to staunch the emotional bleeding, she continued to cry, each sob a wrenching plea for relief. Leaning forward, she nearly slipped from the chair, saved only by the Alpha's strong hands gripping her shoulders.
"What's happening to her?" Another voice echoed in the room as his hands steadied her.
Freya longed desperately to regain control, but the onslaught of
emotion left her powerless.
"Freya!" The Alpha shook her slightly, his roughened voice cutting through her misery, pulling her momentarily from the dark abyss of despair. He was on one knee before her, his face in level with hers, his eyes boring into her own. "What's wrong?"
Struggling to find her voice through the constriction in her throat, she gasped for air. Nausea threatened, her body feeling faint.
"She's collapsing," an voice tinged with urgency called from somewhere in the room, then Freya felt her body sway and the world became dark.
When consciousness returned, Freya found herself lying on something soft and comforting—a bed of fur that cradled her tired body. The chamber around her exuded warmth, filled with the gentle crackling of a burning wood fire and its comforting scent that hung in the air.
Pushing herself up slowly, Freya took in her surroundings. The cozy room enveloped her in hues of brown and mahogany, creating a sense of calm amidst the stormy night outside. Through a large window, raindrops painted delicate patterns on the glass, the forest beyond shrouded in a mist under the moonlit sky.
It was night?
Looking around, Freya took in the details of the cozy chamber. A swinging chair near the large fireplace invited relaxation, while one wall was lined with shelves filled with books. Opposite the bookshelf, a deer head hung solemnly, adding a touch of the wild to the room's otherwise comforting atmosphere.
The bed, adorned with fur sheets of various colors, had kept her warm through her ordeal, though the irony of using animal skins for comfort wasn't lost on her.
Running her fingers through her dark hair, Freya sighed deeply, recalling the violent outburst of emotion that had overtaken her. The intensity surprised even her—did werewolves truly suffer this much at the loss of a mate? She couldn't help but feel sympathetic towards the man, imagining the pain he must have endured.
A soft sound of footsteps drew her attention to the doorway where the Alpha appeared. "You're finally awake," he said, placing his hands in his pocked.
"Yes," she smiled. "I apologize for the inconvenience."
"I'll have food brought to you," he offered.
"Oh, no need," Freya hurriedly swung her legs off the bed. "I'm feeling much better now. I could join you for a meal instead." She suggested sitting at the edge of the bed, her feet barely touching the floor from the bed's lofty perch, a good fit for these large men.
She paused for a moment, her gaze inadvertently sweeping over the Alpha. His stature was impressive, much like the dragons and he was also handsome. Freya hadn't expected to encounter such striking figures here. The highlords were right; this might pose a bit of a challenge, though she wasn't overly concerned. After all, finding someone attractive didn't necessarily mean she would be swayed to take their side.
The Alpha seemed less than enthused by her suggestion to join him. "I have already eaten," he stated flatly.
A slight awkwardness hovered for a moment before Freya, undeterred, pressed on. "Maybe you can keep your guest company then," she proposed, a polite insistence in her tone.
He paused, his expression unreadable as he seemed to weigh her words, possibly looking for a diplomatic way to decline. But perhaps recognizing the efforts she had made to heal one of his own, he relented somewhat reluctantly. "Alright. Let me take you to the dining hall," he finally agreed, leading her out of the room.
As they walked, Freya was struck by the beauty of the hall they entered. The walls on both sides were predominantly glass, revealing the lush green forest outside and the rain that now poured down.
It was different than her humble abode back home —a modest house, functional and unadorned. Roarke's temple-like castle and the grand courthouse where she had been accommodated were impressive in an almost overwhelming way, but this place had a different appeal. It possessed an earthy coziness that felt more inviting.
Freya wandered closer to the glass to watch the rain. "You have a beautiful home," she murmured, more to herself than to him.
She could feel the Alpha's eyes on her back, watching, always assessing, but he remained silent. Then, a sudden thought struck her- Ivan and Alvar. Were they perhaps still waiting for her, getting soaked in this rain?
She spun around, her expression turning to one of concern. "Ivan and Alvar," she said, her voice laced with worry.
"Your dragon guards?" he asked.
"Yes."
"I sent them away when you didn't wake up. We thought you could sleep over here since it is already late. They will return tomorrow morning," he explained.
She looked at him skeptically. His words might have been believable coming from someone like Roarke or another ascendant, but Alvar and Ivan had shown a distinct distrust of the wolves. They wouldn't just leave her?
"They know I gain nothing by harming you. They just don't like my kind," he added, crossing the room slowly to her side.
"Why?" she inquired, genuinely curious about the roots of their distrust.
"Dragons," he said simply, his voice carrying a mix of resignation and bitterness. "You would think shifters would understand other shifters better, but no. They see themselves as superior beings—the old, wise dragons, while we are just dogs in their eyes."
He stood at a slight distance, his gaze lingering on the storm-swept forest beyond the glass. Freya moved to join him, maintaining a respectful space between them, and also turned to the rain-drenched view. "Do you look forward to this rite?" she asked.
"This rite is skewed, often not in favor of our kind," he replied, his voice having an undertone of resentment.
Freya glanced over her shoulder at the sound of the bustle of servants setting the table. Turning back to the Alpha, she asked, "How is he doing? The man I tried to heal?"
"He seems a little more awake now," he said, his gaze shifting from the rain to her. A frown creased his brow, "But what happened to you?"
"Ah—It was the channeling of his pain. It is normal. It happens when I channel immense pain through my own body," she explained, trying to normalize her earlier reaction, though his frown deepened.
"You felt his pain?" he asked surprised.
She nodded slowly. "Not even all of it, yet it was overwhelming. I didn't know you had to go through such pain."
"Of course," he responded as if it were a given. "Not everyone finds that one mate they can become so strongly bound to, so the loss of them is felt equally strong and painful."
Freya's fascination with this new world and its inhabitants deepened. "How do you find your mate? Or... how do you find the one to make your mate?" she inquired.
He paused, his golden eyes holding hers. "By scent, mostly," he replied.
"And what does the scent tell you?" she continued.
His gaze intensified, his presence somehow seeming closer even without moving. "Not much. Only whether I am drawn to it or not."
"And... if you are..."
He stepped slightly closer, his voice lowering, "It means I would want to mate with her."
That was it? If he liked the scent, then he would want to mate with her? And why was he looking at her like that? It made her feel exposed in an odd way. "I see. But you could like many women's scents?" She said.
"Yes, but the one that drives me wild with a need to breed is different," he explained.
His choice of words—'wild with a need to breed'—sent a shiver down her spine. Freya found herself trying hard not to step back as his presence seemed to envelop her more without him moving closer.
"Are you wondering now if I like your scent?" He leaned in slightly, a challenge in his gaze that matched his probing tone.
Well... she was scared to find out but curious nonetheless. "Maybe..." she said.
As he stepped closer, his movements were slow and deliberate, akin to a predator silently assessing its prey. He circled her, his gaze taking her in as he did so. Then she felt the space behind her become occupied by his towering form, his proximity an electric current that buzzed just beneath her skin. He was close, so agonizingly close, yet there was no contact, only the heat radiating off his body and the whisper of his breathing stirring the tendrils of her hair as he spoke. "You have bathed," he noted.
"Yes." Her response was tentative.
"It conceals your natural scent," he continued, his tone suggesting a hint of disapproval or perhaps disappointment. He leaned even closer, his nose almost buried in the cascade of her hair, inhaling deeply.
Freya remained motionless, caught between her rapid heartbeat and the curiosity that pinned her in place. His behavior was alien, yet undeniably intriguing. No man where she came from would just step this close and smell her.
He inclined his head, and she felt the heat of him drawing nearer, his breath a whisper over the sensitive skin at the crook of her neck, intimate and disconcerting all at once.
His hand moved lightly, fingers brushing against her skin with a feathery touch as he swept her hair aside to expose more of her neck. The graze of his beard and nose against her skin sent an involuntary shiver down her spine. His breath, hot and slow, washed over her as he inhaled the scent of her, exploring her as one might savor the bouquet of a rare flowers.
"Mmm..." The sound rumbled from deep within his chest, resonating against her and vibrating deep within her core. "You smell like sweet honeysuckle and wild orchids," he murmured, his voice a soft growl that tickled her ear. "I like it."
The intimacy of his words, coupled with the heat of his breath against her skin, ignited an unexpected reaction within her. "Oh," she gasped, a mix of surprise and a confusing pulse of excitement stirring within her.
Abruptly, she stepped away, turning to face him with her arms wrapped around herself, a gesture that belied the quivering sensation that lingered in her belly.
The Alpha's eyes seemed to have turned into a darker hue as he watched her intently, measuring her reaction. Did he really like her scent or was this part of the seduction game?
***
A/N
This book is contracted now. Yay! Thank you for giving this story a chance.