Freya’s POV
Every step I took toward the bedroom was a battle in itself. My thigh muscles trembled, and my shoulders felt as if they were cast in lead. Tara and the twins had not been joking when they said they would prepare me. My body was covered in new bruises, but these marks were no longer signs of torture; they were scars of survival.
When I finally locked the heavy oak door of the Alpha's bathroom behind me, a weary but relieved sigh escaped my lips.
I turned on the faucet and let the massive tub, carved from black stone, slowly fill with steaming hot water. I added a splash of Jax’s body wash—that spicy scent, reminiscent of pine and leather, which had already come to mean home and safety to me, immediately filled the humid air.
I undressed, peeling off the training gear clingi
