Freya’s  pov.

The silence in my chambers wasn’t peaceful. It was the kind of silence that echoed too loudly, amplifying every thought until it became unbearable.

I sat on the edge of the bed, eyes closed, trying to feel them. Tiberius. Dorian. My mates. Two halves of a heart I never asked to carry.

I focused.

Tiberius—his fire was always there, controlled but hot, coiled tension under armor and discipline. But now? There was something jagged in the feel of him. ...