FREYA
When I opened my eyes, I thought I was still dreaming.
The first thing I saw wasn’t the night sky or the dark treeline where I had collapsed. It wasn’t the twisted, bloodied bodies of the rogues...or the massive wolf that had torn them apart like they were nothing.
No, what I saw was… a ceiling. Smooth, carved beams above me, faintly lit by sunlight spilling through a window.
I sat up too fast, my chest tightening. The sheets beneath me were soft, smelling masculine. For a long, dizzying moment, I couldn’t breathe.
Where was I?
My gaze darted around the room. It was large, everything clean, almost pristine. A wardrobe stood tall in the corner. A rug stretched across the floor. There was no sign of blood, no dirt, no violence.
It looked nothing like the forest where I had been
