Freya opened her eyes, after what seemed like seconds to her. She noticed that she was in the arms of someone that was not Yodah. Their scents were different.

She trailed her eyes from the powerful chest to the face of the man who was carrying her.

His hair was the color of dark coffee beans, a dark espresso, drawn back and tied at the nape of his neck. His face was that of an angel or a devil, strength and power, with a sensual mouth that hinted at cruelty; his hooded eyes were ...