Finally. Zane.

Freya's POV

Run.

Run now.

Run. Now.

Seneca sounded like she would take over my body and run in my stead since I wasn't listening to her.

That is a good idea, I told Seneca in my head. But running won't solve anything, I added.

"If you used all your might and speed. It really could." Seneca was pleading this time.

It really could.

As if I could run anywhere fast enough to escape the reality of what had just happened. What I had just done. As if I could be strong enough to face my fears. As if through sheer force of will I could block who was right in front of me from my sight. From my mind.

"We're carrying our child, Seneca. I can't shift." I bit back a little harshly. This was my own rather cowardly way of explaining for my lack of any progressive mobility.

Run. It's not so hard. Just put one foot in front of the other and go.

But I didn't run. I moved, at least. I hit my ankle on the edge of the bed railing as I feebly attempted to curl back into myself to hide.

But run?

I couldn't.