Alpha Zane's POV I sensed her before I saw her. The sound of her heels, the soft rustle of fabric against skin, the discreet smell of her cinnamon perfume mixed with her familiar, heady scent serenading the room so strongly that my body moved of its own accord and turned around to face her. Moonlight spilled through the drawn curtains and splashed liquid silver across her pale skin. She looked like a goddess. She let out a soft laugh, "I knew I'd find you here." My voice was low. Devious. "I knew you would come here." We weren't in my personal chambers. We were in her own chambers. She had slipped a sly hint yesterday night that we should continue what we started back in her own chambers after we were very frustratingly interrupted by Odelia knocking the door urgently that my presence was immediately needed in – of all the fucking places in the damned castle – the kitchen. "We will do this on my own terms next time." She breathed into my ear before I regretfully unwound her arm

The night descended quickly. The sky above was dark and moonless, clear and quiet, a perfect contrast to the mayhem that reigned supreme in the Lycan king, Alpha Zane's castle. The night was shattered by the sound of howling and snarling. The Lycan King's castle was under a bitter siege by a horde of rogue werewolves led by Beta Darius. Warrick's eyes glowed blood-red with a quiet, feral fury as he surveyed the chaos all around him, almost looking disappointed. "All rogues." He noted dryly, sounding bored. These things flailed about like newborns in the name of …fighting. This was such a sad case of fighting a losing war it was almost ridiculous that he had to come out himself to tear those lousy idiots down. They gyrated and danced about raising and wielding weapons with inexperienced fingers while his soldiers hacked them down. Motherfuckers couldn't even try to make a worthy opponent. But he wasn't here to kill them, not particularly, no…. at least, according to Zane's plan.

Freya's POV "What a ... cautiously creative way to wake me up, mate, entering into my mind to weave a very realistic looking or should I say realistic feeling dream." I muttered, yawning and stretching as I sat up. It only felt like I had just woken up from a brief nap. "Not so realistic since you caught onto it and found a way to wake yourself up." He countered, a note of wryness slipping into his tone. I fought the instinctual urge to touch my belly, feeling for the baby I secretly hoped was still there. "Hm. That's weird," I noted. "What's weird?" He asked. "It only feels like I had just woken up from a light sleep." "It would feel like that." "You exaggerated all that grogginess in my dream, Zane." "Maybe a little. But your mind did a lot of the work. Dreams can appear bigger than reality." To that I nodded, strongly relating with that last statement on a deep level. I snuggled up against him, sniffing in his familiar, heady scent as I let myself drown in his homely, ca

Freya's POV I found myself thinking about that night for the umpteenth time. Her words. "Even like this, you're still one lousy attention seeker." I was back there. In the courtyard. Running. It was empty and silent except for the tap tap of my bare feet slapping against the damp cobblestones of the courtyard as I ran with all my might. The wind whipped through my hair, but I couldn't tell if it was the wind or my own breath that was making my scalp prickle. I could hear the sound of my own cries, but it sounded like someone else's voice, echoing in an endless abyss. My shallow breaths grew louder, heavier, faster with each passing second and crescendoed until — Silence. An infernal, ear-splitting silence. The quiet in the courtyard gradually morphed into something thick and ominous, and was suddenly interrupted by slow, light, almost imperceptible footfalls from behind me. Her phantom breath brushed against my neck, crawling beneath my skin. "You are one scared little bitch,

Freya's POV His lips were forceful and hungry. One would expect that he would go softly on me due to all I had gone through that day. But he didn't. And I was grateful for that. He was making good on his promise to make me forget about the day. He invaded my entirety, his mouth claiming every bit of exposed skin he could find. "Zane…" I moaned out his name as his long, bloody red tongue found my shoulder. His mark. His long, slender taloned index finger pressed against my lips. "Shh." his rumble sent delicious tingles down my spine. How I loved it when Warrick spoke. He stopped moving abruptly and I opened my eyes in disappointment. Up until a few seconds ago, they were closed in delirious bliss. I flicked a soap bubble in his face. He looked ridiculous. "Why?" I asked simply, my voice coarse with desire. He leaned in close, his breath tickling my ear, and murmured my name in that low, delicious voice. "Freya." It was like he was casting a spell on me, and my name was his w