FREYA POV
I stared at Diana, my chest tight. "Mourn?"
The word felt heavy, like a stone dropped into a deep well. I searched her face for a crack, a sign that she was messing with me, but her expression was just... flat. Cold. I even let out a small, half-strangled sound—not a laugh, but like a mournful grunt of my own because none of this made any damn sense.
Was this part of his "other business"?
"Is it about that?" I asked, my voice cracking. "The stuff you said last night? The killing?"
Diana didn’t answer. She just gave me this slow, heavy nod that made my skin crawl. It wasn't a "he's at a meeting" nod.
I swallowed hard, my throat feeling like I’d been eating glass. I wanted to shake her. I wanted to scream at her to stop talking in riddles and just tell me if the man I was sl
