All Chapters of Reborn 90 Days Before the Apocalypse: Claimed by the Warlord: Chapter 1 - Chapter 7

POV FREYAThe stench of rotting flesh is one of those things that sticks with you forever, like a mark you can never wash away. It clings to your throat, thick, cloying and sickening, long after your stomach has knotted tight as if you swallowed a fistful of dirt.The blizzard howled high above on the roof of the abandoned medical center, its icy teeth tearing through the worn fabric of my fine coat. My fingers were so numb I could barely close my hand around that dented can of peaches in syrup. It was the last one. All we had left. We had clawed our way through rubble, stepping over remains and broken glass, across four whole floors just to find it, and now my knees bled beneath my torn jeans, stinging with every step I took."Freya, give it to me."Wyatt did not even glance down at my bloodstained knees. His eyes were fixed, locked on that rusted can I held as tightly as I could. His face, the same one that used to look flawless at country club parties, was now streaked grey with di

POV FREYAThe phone barely rang twice before a deep, refined, well-mannered voice answered on the other end."Miss Cross, good morning. What a pleasant surprise so early," said Arthur Vance, the legal administrator my mother had appointed to oversee my trust fund before she passed away. "I was just finalising the half-year report on your assets to forward it to your father.""Cancel that report, Arthur," I ordered straight away, walking toward the vast floor-to-ceiling window in my living room. Far below, the city thrummed with its usual rhythm: limousines gliding through traffic, office workers hurrying along clutching coffee, giant screens flashing advertisements for watches, jewellery, luxury cars. Not one of those people had the faintest clue that in less than three months they would be fighting over a single bottle of clean water. "And do not send anything at all to my father. I need all my assets liquidated today."A heavy silence fell on the line. The rustle of papers stopped i

POV FREYThe squad leader did not move at once. Through the smoked visor of his ballistic helmet, I caught the tension tighten his shoulders as one of his men crouched carefully, picking up the data card with a plastic gripper to leave no trace."Stay exactly where you are," his voice commanded, flattened and metallic through his comms system.Three minutes of utter silence passed, broken only by the wind sighing through pine boughs and the steady hum of automated turrets, their aim never drifting a single millimetre from my chest. I knew precisely what was happening: the checkpoint technician had slotted the chip into an isolated terminal, and its Special Forces cryptographic signature had tripped every alarm at central command.A green light blinked above the blast-shielded gate.Hydraulic anti-tank barriers sank slowly, groaning with metal and pressure."The commander has authorised your entry," the leader announced, lowering his rifle though keeping his posture rigid. "On foot. De

POV FREYAThe Grand Plaza Hotel’s main events hall was packed to capacity. Dozens of television cameras cast harsh white light over the stage, where three national-network microphones amplified Sienna’s ragged sobbing.She wore an immaculate white dress, no visible makeup, her blonde hair slightly tousled to sell the part of the devoted, shattered sister. Beside her, my father Lawrence Cross pressed one hand to his chest while clutching a silk handkerchief in the other, embodying the betrayed patriarch whose health hung by a thread.Wyatt stood at the central lectern. His designer suit could not hide the nervous tightness in his shoulders, but his tone was rehearsed, melodramatic, full of self-pity."...and that is why the Cross family and the Cole Corporation find ourselves under a painful moral obligation to seek emergency judicial intervention," Wyatt declared amid the ceaseless strobing of camera flashes. "Freya has suffered a severe psychological collapse. The accumulated stress