Lucian Draven’s POV
Not too Bad
Oh, how I’d love to rip that off her body.
The thought surges through me as my eyes rake over Freya. She’s standing there, looking me up and down with the kind of intensity that sends a ripple of heat through my chest. Her gaze lingers longer than it should, and when our eyes finally meet, she snaps out of it, breathless and defensive. "What?" she asks, her voice strained, almost like she’s trying to hide something.
I smirk, a predatory edge to my expression. "I’ll only say this once, Freya. I hate you. I can’t stand the sight of you most days. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t drawn to you, like the moon to a bloodhunt. There’s something primal between us, something wild. And if you try to tell me you don’t feel it, you’re lying to yourself."
Freya d
