Freya's POVThe club was loud. Not just your average loud—the music pounded like a sledgehammer in my chest, syncing with my rapidly quickening pulse. Multicolored lights flashed wildly overhead, illuminating the sea of unfamiliar faces dancing and downing drinks as if tonight were just another ordinary night.Lucas moved ahead, slipping through the crowd with the ease of someone who’d done this too many times before. He signaled to a few people who immediately melted into the shadows. His eyes and ears, the ones who made sure tonight went according to plan.Alaric and I walked straight through, heading directly for the staircase leading to the upper floor.Two guards stood there. Rigid, alert, their gazes sharp like hawks sensing danger.“What’s your business?” one of them asked, his tone flat but laced with threat. His right hand slowly crept toward his waist, ready to draw his weapon at any moment.I didn’t give him the chance. Before he could pull his gun, I was already moving. My
Freya’s POVI thought that after that night, everything would feel lighter. I thought freedom would come with the kind of relief that saves you. But it turns out, it’s not that simple.I stand on the small balcony of Alaric’s apartment, letting the morning air bite against my bare skin. The city stirs awake in the distance, the sky slowly shifting from darkness to a faint blue. Golden light seeps between the towering buildings, but I remain here, unmoving.Trying to feel something. But all I find is emptiness.I exhale slowly, biting my lip, letting the hollowness creep into my mind. I was so desperate to escape, to be free from the chains that had bound me all these years. Nevertheless, now that I am, I feel unmoored.I can’t stay here forever. Alaric’s apartment isn’t a shelter for people like me.He never asked me to leave. Never made me feel unwanted. However, I know better than to become a burden in his life.He’s already sacrificed enough to protect me. I don’t want him to keep
Freya's POVI swear, leaving behind something that has become a part of you is the hardest thing in the world.I've been standing in front of Alaric’s apartment door for the past fifteen minutes. A small suitcase sits beside my feet, my trembling hand gripping the doorknob. I’ve made up my mind to leave, but why does it feel impossible to actually push the door open?“Freya.”That voice makes me look up.Alaric stands in the doorway to the balcony, leaning casually as if nothing is happening. But I know better. He’s been reading this situation from the start. I don’t even have to tell him.The summer sunlight washes over his sharp features. He’s only wearing a plain white T-shirt and jeans—a simple look that somehow makes him even more irresistible. His once-long hair is now shorter after I cut it last night. The stubble on his jaw is gone too, thanks to my insistence, because honestly, if I waited for him to realize he needed grooming, it would take a miracle.I swallow hard, trying
Freya’s POVI never knew what it felt like to wake up without fear. Back then, every morning started with a tightness in my chest—the sound of footsteps outside my door, shadows lurking in the corners, the constant dread that today could be my last. Fear was ingrained in my blood, like a survival instinct that never faded.But this morning, I didn’t wake up to shouting or the pounding of a fist against my door. I woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside my small apartment window. The ocean breeze slipped through the cracks, making the sheer white curtains flutter, their edges already frayed. The morning sunlight streamed in, casting a warmth that felt unfamiliar but not entirely unwelcome.I stayed in bed for a moment, staring at the ceiling, its surface marked with water stains and tiny cracks. This wasn’t Alaric’s comfortable apartment. There was no scent of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. No rustling of newspaper pages as he read the morning headlines.This place was
Freya's POVMornings in this city are always full of movement. The streets are crowded with people walking briskly, as if time itself is chasing them. Cars and buses speed past in a hurried rhythm, their horns occasionally breaking the quiet of the early hours.The scent of freshly brewed coffee and toasted bread drifts from small cafés on street corners, blending with the earthy aroma left behind by last night’s drizzle.The morning air feels fresher today, its crispness brushing gently against my skin, reminding me that I am alive, breathing, feeling something other than the emptiness that often lingers in my chest.I’ve started to settle into the rhythm of life here—waking up early, working at the café, then coming home exhausted. There’s a monotony to it, but at least it’s better than my old life, where fear and uncertainty dictated my every move.But today feels a little different.A small bag hangs over my shoulder as I walk toward the bus stop. Weekends are my chance to add a b
Freya's POVThe rain poured heavily, creating a constant drumming sound on the roof of the small café where I worked. Droplets soaked the pavement, reflecting the dim glow of the streetlights. The cold air crept over my skin, seeping through the thin sweater I wore. But that wasn’t what made my chest feel so heavy.It wasn’t the air, nor the rain. It was the figure standing across the street.I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening around the fabric of the apron still tied around my waist.Alaric leaned against a lamppost, his body wrapped in a black leather jacket that was already damp from the rain. Those sharp eyes remained the same as I remembered—dark, intense, filled with secrets. His long fingers held a cigarette, its dying ember glowing faintly as smoked curled into the cold air.I thought I had left him behind. Thought that my small steps toward a new life were enough to erase him from my mind. But here he was, appearing unexpected.And worse, my heart pounded uncontrollably
Freya's POVI woke up before sunrise, accompanied by the steady rhythm of rain tapping against my window. My apartment felt colder than usual, even with the thick blanket wrapped around me. But it wasn’t the weather that made my chest feel so heavy.He was still here.I could feel it, even without seeing him. Outside this room, on the living room sofa, Alaric was either awake or pretending to be asleep.I stared at the ceiling with wide eyes. I wanted to believe that last night’s argument had left no trace, that I could wake up and pretend nothing had changed. But I knew better.A faint sound came from outside—fabric shifting. Maybe he was adjusting his position. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, before finally getting out of bed.The moment I opened the door, Alaric came into view.He hadn’t slept.He was sitting on the sofa, one hand supporting his forehead, his elbow resting on his knee. His black hair was slightly disheveled, and traces of exhaustion still clung to hi
Freya’s POVThe clinking of cups and the hum of customers' conversations filled the café, but everything felt distant as I stood in front of Alaric.I tried to read his expression, but as always, he was a puzzle I could never quite solve. His face was calm, yet there was something in his eyes that made the air between us feel heavier.“I told you we’d talk after my shift. Why are you still here?” I asked, keeping my voice low and even so the customers wouldn’t overhear.Alaric casually slipped his hands into his pockets, as if standing in this tiny café was the most natural thing in the world. “Now or later—what difference does it make?”I crossed my arms. “Fine. What do you want to talk about? Make it quick before my boss loses her patience.”Before he could respond, Adrian—the shameless menace, cut in. That loudmouth never let people enjoy their coffee in peace.“Damn, Alaric Verity!” he called out from behind the bar, stirring a cup of coffee with infuriating nonchalance. “Thanks f
Freya’s POVI sat at the edge of the bed, one hand resting on my stomach. My fingers traced over the still-flat surface of my skin, as if trying to grasp the reality of what I had just learned.I was pregnant with Alaric’s child.I repeated it in my head, trying to let the words sink in. This was real. It wasn’t just a possibility or a joke from a faulty test.The doctor had confirmed it—I was carrying Alaric’s baby. And somehow, ever since that moment, the world felt like it was moving in slow motion.I lifted my head, my gaze falling on Alaric, who stood by the bedroom door, arms crossed over his chest. He was watching me with an unreadable expression—a mixture of awe, relief, and something deeper that I couldn’t quite define.“Are you still in shock?” His voice was low, almost gentle.I let out a breath and nodded slowly. “Of course. I just found out a few hours ago that there’s a tiny human growing inside me.”A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he stepped closer and
Alaric's POVI’ve faced a lot in my life.Life in prison, betrayal, losing people I considered family. Even surviving the criminal underworld that nearly swallowed me whole.I’ve been on the brink of destruction, standing between life and death more times than I can count.But none of that could have prepared me for what I just heard.“Congratulations, Mr. Verity. Your partner is pregnant. She’s about eight weeks along.”I froze in place like an idiot.The doctor’s voice echoed in the room, but my brain seemed to stop functioning. I stared at the blood test results in my hand. The numbers should have made sense, but right now, they just felt like a jumble of meaningless symbols.I had to lean on the desk because, for the first time in my life, my knees almost gave out.Freya… pregnant?I took a deep breath, trying to regain my focus. “Are you sure?” My voice came out hoarser than I expected.The doctor smiled, unfazed by my reaction. “We ran the test twice to confirm. All signs point
Freya's POVI’ve always loved the atmosphere of classes at NYU. The lecture halls are spacious, modern, and filled with students who are just as passionate as I am.Professor Callahan, who teaches Media, Culture, and Society, is the kind of academic who’s both brilliant and insightful. His voice is confident as he explains how media shapes social perceptions. Popular culture isn’t just entertainment—it’s a social phenomenon with a profound impact on everyday life.I listened intently, jotting down key points in my notebook. But today felt different.Since this morning, my body had been feeling a little off.I woke up with an uncomfortable sensation in my stomach. It wasn’t exactly pain, but more like waves of nausea that came and went.At first, I thought it was just the usual nervousness I feel before heading to class. I’m the type of person who’s always excited, and sporadically that excitement turns into a bit of anxiety.But this time was different.I swallowed hard, trying to ign
Freya’s POVI stood on the balcony of our apartment, letting the cool night breeze brush against my skin. Below me, New York pulsed with life—city lights scattered like stars, distant honks and the faint hum of the city still audible despite the late hour.Leaning against the railing, I hugged myself and gazed at the skyline.I should be in bed, but my mind was too restless.Today, I had finalized all my administrative paperwork for college. I had my class schedule, my student ID, and had even spent the last few hours reading through reference materials for my first course.I should be proud of myself. But there was an unsettling feeling in my chest: a quiet anxiety I couldn’t fully understand.The sound of the sliding door opening behind me pulled me from my thoughts, followed by familiar footsteps. I didn’t have to turn around to know it was Alaric.He didn’t say anything, just stood beside me, resting his hands on the railing, his sharp green eyes focused on the city.I glanced at
Freya’s POVI stared at my reflection in the mirror, letting out a slow, deep breath.This morning, I wore a peach blouse, paired with loose white pants that draped comfortably around my legs. On my feet were white flats adorned with delicate floral accents— a gift from Alaric. I completed the look with a cross-body bag filled with books and pens.Today marked the beginning of something new.I had officially enrolled at New York University (NYU), choosing to major in Communication Studies with a Bachelor of Science in Media, Culture.I was rebuilding my life, choosing not just to be someone who had survived her past but someone who was actively shaping her own future.Alaric had never tried to change me. Instead, he always made sure I had the freedom to be myself.I checked my natural-looking makeup, ran my fingers through my shoulder-length hair to fix it, and then stepped out of the bedroom, finding Alaric already waiting for me.He was standing in the kitchen, pouring himself a cup
Alaric's POVOn Monday morning, the apartment still carried the lingering warmth of the night before. Sunlight slipped through the gaps in the curtains, casting golden streaks across the wooden floor.I got up, showered, threw on my work shirt, and took a sip of the coffee Freya had made.Usually, before leaving, I would pull her into a long, lingering kiss at the door. Our lips would meet for a few seconds before I forced myself to walk out the door and head to work.Then suddenly, I heard the soft sound of footsteps approaching from behind.I had just put on my shoes, fingers tying the last knot, when a pair of delicate hands wrapped around my waist from behind."I just realized something..." Freya’s voice was soft, almost teasing.Her warm body pressed against my back. Before I could turn around, her hands slid forward, her fingers trailing down until they reached the center of my pants. My breath hitched.I stiffened instantly. "Freya," my voice came out rough, laced with warning.
Alaric’s POVFreya is the biggest problem in my life.Not in a bad way. No. She’s a problem because she’s too perfect. She tempts me without even trying. Freya drives me insane just by walking past me in my oversized shirt and those damn tiny panties.Like this morning, for example.I was sitting in the kitchen bar, sipping my coffee, fully intending to start my day in peace. But then Freya—the sinful creature that she is, walked out of the bedroom in a thin, spaghetti-strap dress that did absolutely nothing to hide her skin.That damn fabric clung to every curve of her hourglass figure. Her full breasts bounced slightly with each step. Her long, slender legs carried her with the grace of a runway model.Freya, that wicked woman.When was the last time I could actually think straight since moving in with her?I ran a hand over my face, trying to focus on the newspaper in front of me. Useless. My eyes kept tracking her every move—how she reached for the coffee cup, how her delicate f
Freya’s POVPeace doesn’t mean everything is perfect or that I no longer have fears lurking in the back of my mind. But in the arms of someone who loves me and values me, life feels a little easier to navigate.Alaric was still fast asleep beside me, one arm draped around my waist as if it were the most natural thing in the world—like our bodies were meant to fit together this way.His breathing was steady, warm against my skin. I simply watched him in silence, letting the reality of this moment sink in.I didn’t just fall in love with him. Likewise, I chose to love him—with all his strengths and flaws.But choices don’t stop here.I have to keep picking to move forward, to not let the shadows of my past hold us back. I have to decide to live my life, not just survive it.Slowly, I slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him. I grabbed his shirt from the floor, slipping it over my head before stepping out of the bedroom.This apartment was still new—we had only bought it a few weeks a
Freya’s POVWe arrived at the apartment around seven in the evening. As soon as we stepped inside, I kicked off my shoes and headed to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of cold water. Alaric followed, leaning against the counter as he watched me.I could feel his eyes on my back. There was something in his gaze—a tension I couldn’t quite decipher.Setting my glass down on the table, I turned to him. “What is it?”He shook his head slightly but didn’t look away. “I was just thinking… you’ve changed.”I frowned. “Changed how?”Alaric stepped closer, threading his fingers through my hair before brushing his hand gently across my cheek. “You look more alive, Freya.”I swallowed, warmth spreading through me at his touch. “Isn’t that a good thing?”He nodded, but there was something in his eyes—something deeper than just satisfaction. Something he had been holding back.My heartbeat quickened.I didn’t know who moved first: him or me, but suddenly, I was in his arms. His full lips captured min