Freya’s pov.

The courtyard had emptied, leaving only silence and the faint echo of clashing from earlier. I remained, alone in the training yard, letting the wind brush against my skin as I tried to catch my breath—not from the fight, but from everything else. My mind was a whirlwind. I needed the open air to think, to try and figure out how the hell I was going to tell them.

Tiberius and Dorian.

How do you tell two men who are at each other’s throats—and in love ...