Freya‘s pov.

The festival lights still flickered in the distance as I stood on the hill, watching Dorian disappear into the darkness. My lips tingled from his kiss, my heart still pounded in my chest, but my mind was a tangled web of confusion and doubt. The mate bond—this unyielding force that pulled me toward him—was relentless. It whispered promises of belonging, of protection, but I wasn’t sure if I could trust it.

Could I trust him?

Dorian was dangerous. A ...