Chapter 3 I am wolfless

Before Freya could speak, the door opened, and Caspian stepped inside.

He had changed out of his bloodstained clothes and was now wearing a black tunic that stretched across his broad shoulders. His golden eyes immediately found Freya.

Freya's heart began to pound. So this was the man who had saved her. The lycan king.

Eleanor smiled. "Speak of the devil."

Caspian shot her a look. "I see our guest is awake."

"Yes, she is."

His gaze didn't leave Freya. Eleanor glanced between them and hid a smile.

"Well, I'll leave you two alone."

Freya sat up straighter.

Wait. Alone? she thought.

Eleanor moved toward the door.

"She hasn't eaten yet, Your Majesty. Make sure she eats." Then, she patted his arm as she passed. "Try not to frighten the poor girl," she whispered before stepping out.

Freya and Caspian stared at each other in silence. The scent of lilies and cinnamon filled the room. Caspian's jaw tightened.

Being this close to her was a mistake. Every instinct inside him was on edge. His wolf was no better.

Mate, Jax growled inside him.

The wolf paced restlessly beneath his skin, drawn to her with a force neither of them had ever experienced before.

Control yourself, Caspian warned.

You control yourself, Jax shot back.

Caspian resisted the urge to growl at him. His wolf wanted nothing more than to cross the room, pull her into his arms, and make it clear to the entire world that she belonged to him.

The possessive instinct was overwhelming, and judging by the fear in her eyes, it was probably best if he kept his distance.

Finally, he spoke. "How are you feeling?"

Freya shifted slightly against the pillows. Pain immediately shot through her side, but she refused to show it.

"I'm fine."

One of his eyebrows rose. They both knew that was a lie. She had lost a lot of blood, fought rogues, and had been unconscious for hours. Still, Caspian chose not to challenge her.

"Good."

His gaze remained on her.

"I need you to answer me honestly."

Freya swallowed and nodded. Caspian noticed how rigid her posture was, and how tightly she was clutching the blanket.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said.

"I know," she whispered.

The truth was, she wasn't entirely sure she believed it. This was the Lycan King. He was capable of tearing wolves apart with his bare hands... and she was wolfless.

She should have been terrified. Everything about him was intimidating, the broad shoulders, the sharp golden eyes, the quiet power that seemed to surround him. Yet, there was something else she couldn't explain: a strange sense of comfort.

Caspian studied her for a moment before speaking again.

"What is your name?"

"Freya."

The simple answer seemed to catch his attention.

"And where do you come from?"

She hesitated. "A small village."

"What village?"

"A village south of Pine Ridge."

The moment the words left her lips, something changed in his expression. Caspian's golden eyes narrowed.

"Pine Ridge?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty."

He was silent for several seconds. Pine Ridge is a small farming village. His mother's words replayed in his mind.

"What were you doing in the forest alone?" he asked.

Freya lowered her gaze. "I was running."

"From what?"

For a moment, pain flickered across her face. Then, she looked back at him.

"From home."

"Why?"

She hesitated, but she knew that if she didn't tell the truth, he might know. There was something about him that made her feel uncomfortable. Freya lowered her gaze to her hands.

"My father sold me," she said quietly.

Caspian's expression darkened. "What do you mean?"

Freya swallowed. "He owed money to a neighbor. When he couldn't repay the debt, he offered me instead. I overheard them discussing it. The wedding was supposed to take place last night."

"Were you willing to marry him?"

"No!"

Caspian felt anger stirring deep within him. Not at her, but at the men who had treated her like property. "So you ran."

Freya nodded. "I thought if I could make it through the forest, I might get to the fishing lands, and find my grandmother," Her fingers tightened around the blanket. "Instead, I found rogues."

"And nearly got yourself killed."

"That would have been better than marrying that man."

For a moment, Caspian remained silent. His gaze studied her carefully. Then, he asked the question that had been bothering him since he found her.

"What happened to your wolf?"

Freya froze. Her heart skipped a beat. She looked away. "I don't..."

The word caught in her throat. She twisted the blanket in her hands. Shame burned inside her chest. For as long as she could remember, she had dreaded this conversation, the pity, the judgment, the disappointment.

Taking a shaky breath, she forced herself to meet his gaze.

"I don't have a wolf."

Silence filled the room. Freya immediately looked down, unable to bear whatever reaction might be on his face. She waited for the disgust, the ridicule, the same reactions she had received her entire life.

Instead, Caspian asked, "Where did you learn to fight so well?"

Freya blinked. Her head snapped up.

"What?" she choked out.

"You killed several of the rogues before I arrived."

For a moment, she could only stare at him surprised. He wasn't looking at her with pity or contempt. If anything, he looked impressed.

"My mother taught me," she said quietly. "Before she died."

Caspian studied her. Then, he shook his head, looking confused.

"You fight better than some of my men in their Lycan forms," he said. "And you expect me to believe all of that came from your mother?"

Freya stiffened. "It's the truth Your Majesty. Everyone in my village knows that."

Caspian frowned slightly. A wolfless girl doesn't possess this much strength. There must be more to this girl than she was letting on.