Chapter 32It was morning already and Freya was up, when,The door creaked open, and the maid assigned to Freya stepped inside, broom and dustpan in hand. She moved with practiced ease, humming faintly as she worked. Her eyes scanned the room in a habitual sweep, checking corners and under the bed.Then she froze.Near the side of the bed, scattered in delicate clumps, were short strands of fur. Silvery, soft, almost glinting in the sunlight. She bent down, running her fingers over them. They felt nothing like the fabric lint she sometimes found. These were real.Her brows knitted together. "That’s odd... we don’t have any cats here," she muttered to herself. Her voice was low, almost as if she didn’t want to hear her own question.From the bathroom, the sound of running water echoed, steam drifting faintly through the partially open door. Freya was bathing, completely oblivious.The maid shook her head but kept her curiosity alive. She swept the floor with careful, deliberate strokes
Chapter 31The door knob turned slowly with a soft creak, making Freya's heart leap into her throat. Her ears perked up instinctively as the door swung open. But to her dismay, it wasn’t Daniel. Instead, one of the maids stepped into the dimly lit room, a tray in hand.Freya gasped quietly and darted into the bathroom, still in her wolf form. Her fur shimmered slightly under the faint light spilling from the hallway. She moved with such urgency that her paws nearly slipped against the tiled floor.The maid paused, her brows furrowed. “Hello?” she called softly, stepping in.From the bathroom, Freya reached up with her paw and twisted the shower knob. Water gushed out almost instantly, echoing through the silence.Hearing the water, the maid nodded slowly, placing the tray on a small table near the door. “Mr. Daniel gave me the key. He asked me to check on you,” she said to no one in particular. “I guess you’re bathing.”Freya remained silent, not daring to make a sound. She pressed he
Mia walked out of Daniel’s office with a dramatic sigh, her heels clicking sharply against the tiled floor. She didn’t say a word at first—just sent Freya a cutting look, her lips curling into a scoff before she disappeared down the hallway.Freya sat still, clutching the edge of her desk, her back straight but her fingers digging into the wood. Her heart beat fast, not because of Mia’s disdain, but because of what she had seen in Daniel’s eyes moments earlier—conflict. Maybe even guilt.She didn’t have time to analyze it. Daniel stepped out a second later, his usual unreadable expression plastered on his face, posture rigid with authority.“Did you arrange the meeting with the event planner?” he asked, his tone clipped.Freya stood slowly. “Yes. She’s busy until this evening, so she can only be here by 8PM. We’ll have to stay late.”Daniel looked at his watch, then nodded curtly. “Fine. But you’re not leaving until everything is sorted.”Her jaw clenched, but she kept her voice even.
It had been several weeks since Freya began working at Daniel's company. The chaos and strangeness of the human world had gradually settled into a rhythm she was beginning to understand. She no longer marveled at electric kettles or double-decker buses, and she could operate a computer faster than most of her colleagues. There was a quiet pride in that—learning to blend in, learning to survive.But even with all the progress she had made, something was wrong.Irene had been quieter lately.She used to speak often—her voice echoing gently inside Freya’s mind like a heartbeat. But now, she came in short bursts, almost like she was gasping for air. Freya could feel her fading, like the connection between them was slowly unraveling."You need to return," Irene whispered that morning as Freya typed up a report. "You're getting too far from the source. I'm getting weaker."Freya bit her lower lip, fingers pausing over the keyboard. "I know," she murmured under her breath. "But I'm not ready
It had been three days.Three days since Freya vanished like smoke beneath the full moon sky.Alpha Logan stood at the balcony of the west wing, his arms folded tight across his chest, and eyes burning holes into the distant tree line. The evening wind howled through the trees, but it brought no answers, no familiar scent of lilac and wild earth—Freya’s scent. He had been patient. At first.But now? Now he was anything but calm.Footsteps echoed behind him. He didn’t need to turn to know who it was.“Alpha,” one of the guards said, panting slightly. “We... we’ve just returned from the northern ridge.”Logan turned slowly, his jaw clenched.“And?”The guard lowered his gaze, hesitating. “Still nothing. No scent. No trace. It’s like she—vanished.”The words lit a fire in Logan’s chest.“No one just vanishes!” he growled. “Not from my territory. Not without help.”His voice cracked like a whip, sharp enough to make the guard flinch.Logan’s hands curled into fists at his sides. His wolf
It had been three days since Freya crossed into the human world—a world she had only heard about in whispered conversations and forbidden scrolls. In that short span, she had learned that time felt different here. The sky didn’t shift as fast. The air didn’t sing with energy. And everything—from the metal boxes called cars to the glowing rectangles humans used to communicate—felt too fast and too foreign.Freya sat by the large window of the guest room Daniel had given her. Her knees were folded beneath her on the velvet settee, arms resting on the window frame, chin cradled in her palm. Outside, life moved. Men and women in suits. Children with backpacks. Dogs on leashes. Horns honking. Life here was structured, calculated. There were no howls in the wind, no scent trails to follow—only the sterile tang of cement, metal, and perfume.Her wolf stirred faintly beneath her skin.“Irene,” she whispered in her mind. “Not now. Please.”Irene whined but obeyed, curling somewhere deep in her