Dorian‘s pov.

The rage in my chest had turned nuclear.

Freya was gone. And this time... she left without a trace.

I paced the war room like a fucking caged animal, fists clenched, jaw set so tight I was pretty sure I’d cracked a molar. The Beast was silent. Not sulking—just eerily quiet. Like he didn’t know what to think either. And that silence was worse than anything.

She left.

A guard appeared at the door. “His Majesty requests your ...