Three days.
That’s how long Freya had spent carefully avoiding Alpha Logan’s piercing gaze, his subtle questions, and the ever-watchful eyes of the guards. Her heart thumped with guilt and fear each time he passed by her chamber, but she held onto her resolve. She couldn’t falter now.
The plan was simple… or at least it had seemed that way.
---
Earlier that morning, just before sunrise, Logan had come to her chambers.
She hadn’t expected him.
She quickly shoved the half-burned map beneath her bed and straightened, heart pounding.
“Alpha,” she said, voice steady—too steady.
He studied her, leaning against the doorframe. Tall. Sharp. Dangerous.
“You’ve been... quiet lately,” Logan said slowly. “Avoiding me?”
Freya offered a weak smile. “I’ve just not been feeling well.”
“Not well?
