Arius’s POV

There was something almost poetic in the way she glared at me—as if her rage alone could burn through bone. Freya stood at the far end of the stone chamber, spine rigid, breath controlled, eyes lit with defiance that bordered on divine. Even battered and worn, she was magnificent.

And she was mine.

At least for now.

She didn’t speak at first, merely studied me like a puzzle she intended to dismantle. I could feel her scrutiny prickle along my skin, ...