Freya‘s pov.

I struggled, my muscles tensing as I yanked against Alaric’s iron grip. My teeth clenched, my voice low and seething. "Let go of me."

Instead of complying, he squeezed harder, his fingers digging into my wrist like a vice. A slow, satisfied chuckle rumbled from his throat. "Well, well… now you’ve really stepped into it."

I frowned, confused by his words. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Yanking my arm free, I stumbled back a step, flexing my ...