The car moved in a tensed silence, its tires humming against the asphalt as the night swallowed them. Freya sat rigid in the back seat, pressed into the leather, the silver cuffs on her wrists biting into her skin. Every pulse of pain reminded her that she was trapped, and her wolf was in shackles, silenced.
Logan sat beside her, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body. His presence was suffocating, his aura heavy with restrained rage. He hadn’t spoken since forcing her into the car. He didn’t need to. The anger burning in his eyes, the way his jaw clenched and unclenched, spoke volumes.
Freya swallowed hard, her throat dry from excessive crying. Her voice came out hoarse.
“How… how did you find me?”
No answer.
She turned her head, searching his face. His gaz
