Freya’s POV

Pa—

The crack of my palm against skin echoed louder than it should have.

But what followed was worse—nothing.

The man didn’t flinch. Didn’t yell.

He just stared.

His cheek was still tilted from the impact, my hand frozen midair like I was the one who’d done something wrong. Seconds ago, his skin had felt warm under my palm. Now it felt like stone.

I couldn’t breathe.

His gray eyes met ...