Jensen’s POV
I shouldn’t have said it.
Calling her my mate—out loud, in front of Warwick.
I wasn’t even certain myself.
Not fully.
And now… I just hoped she hadn’t heard me.
⸻
Kissing her hadn’t helped either.
If anything, it had made things worse.
Harder.
More real.
⸻
I’d barely managed to pull myself away.
Lucas had been furious about it—still was, sulking somewhere in the back of my mind.
But Freya needed time.
Time to process.
Time to breathe.
Time to heal.
⸻
Everything had happened too fast.
Too violently.
⸻
I’d seen what abuse like that could do.
Her mother had lived it.
The aftermath wasn’t just physical—it lingered in the mind, in the body.
PTSD didn’t follow rules.
One moment, you were fine.
The next… you weren’t.
⸻
I exhaled slowly, dragging a hand th
