Freya Allan Feet Novels & Stories

They seemed to be having a field day. “Allen,” I said when our eyes met. He looked away too quickly. Freya wore a sexy red dress. She got up, champagne flute in one hand, as her other hand suspended in the air like something was in it. She walked to me like this was a runway and stopped right in front of me. Her eyes ran all over my body in a mocking glare before she turned to the men littered around the room. “Allen,” she purred like a cat. “I am disappointed in your taste in women.” She leaned in and took a fistful of my hair, twirling it in her hand, eyes looking down at me with a sardonic glance. “Why would you like someone like her?”

I tugged off the rest of my clothes, and went into the bathroom. After mollie left lucas's room, she walked over to Freya's room . She reached for the door handle the door opened. Freya sat on her bed in her room. Her ombre hair floated loose around her shoulders, she wore a glitter lace dress, and a Round toe stiletto high heel lace up ankle boots. She stared at her in utter amazement. "Mollie! What's wrong? Do I look That bad? " she asked nervously.

After a minute of tongue dancing, I placed her gently on her feet again. She heard the sound of the zipper in the quiet room before the feeling of cold air kissed her skin. Her dress fell off her frame pooling at her feet and she could hear the sharp intake of air from me. Freya was clad in black lace panties and a lacy bra. The material complimented her fair skin.

I wanted to believe that she had helped me because her feelings were genuine…and at that moment, they had felt real. Freya opened the door then, almost like she had been expecting a visitor. But when she saw that I was the one on the other side, he eyes widened in surprise. "Cameron? You're up already?" She opened the door wider, revealing her attire that consisted of an oversized green hoodie and short jean shorts that reached mid thigh. My eyes momentarily travelled her body, fixated on the long, lean legs that seemed to stretch on forever. Freya wasn't very tall, about five feet four, but she was beautifully shaped. If only she hadn't starved herself to feed her brother…

“You’re an omega, after all. No one with any sense will want a filthy Omega.” Omega. He spat the word like an insult, but I couldn’t even understand or care about what he was saying. I just wanted out! “Release me immediately.” I gritted my teeth. “You can’t do this.” “It’s already done.” My nails dug into my palms. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t happening. I wasn’t a bloody omega or whatever. I wasn’t some property to be sold. I was Freya Vaughn. And I would destroy every single person who thought they could take away my freedom.

, she pinched Sre's chin, " even if it hurts" "Thanks, mom", she hugged her again, "I love you" "I love you too, baby". Freya pulled back. "These heels are the worst". Unbuckling the devils, she flung them to the corner of the kitchen near the wall, just as Sre murmured under her breath, "And I'm not a side chick".

Freya handles it all with grace, accepting congratulations and answering questions until I see the fatigue creeping in, the way her hand keeps finding her lower back, the slight wince when she shifts weight. "Alright, everyone," I announce, wrapping a protective arm around her. "Luna Freya needs rest. We'll continue the celebrations tomorrow." The pack disperses without argument, understanding in their expressions. Our baby is pack baby, after all. Everyone invested in its safe arrival. Once we're alone in our quarters, Freya collapses onto the couch with a groan. "My feet are killing me," she mutters. "Let me." I kneel before her, removing her shoes and taking one swollen foot in my hands.

I caught myself turning side to side in the mirror, like damn, maybe I could actually pull this Luna thing off. “This one,” Freya declared, snapping her fingers like she’d just discovered fire. “This is the dress.” The stylist clapped. The seamstress hummed approvingly. I just prayed I’d be able to breathe in it. Then come the shoes—five-inch heels that I’m 70% sure are classified as medieval torture devices. “They’re beautiful,” Freya says. “They’re a cry for help,” I counter. I took one step. Wobbled. Definitely saw my life flash before my eyes. “If I die, I’m haunting all of you"jewelry stays minimal—“Let them look at your face,” Freya insists, as if my face won’t be a nervous wreck by th

(Freya POV) I opened my eyes and looked at the sky. It was five in the morning and a cool breeze was blowing outside. Suddenly, I want to breathe in the cool air and want to feel the softness of soil and grass. I slowly got up from the bed and was shocked for a moment because I didn’t recover yet but It seems my body started healing at a much faster speed. I put my feet on the floor and walked towards the bathroom. It was really amazing that I didn’t need any help now. I quickly washed my face and looked at my reflection in the mirror.

Eladia bit her lip as she looked up towards the clock hanging on the wall. “A little over three minutes.” My eyes widened, and I shot up, hobbling over to the closet to slip on the red high heels. I swiveled around and almost ran out of the door behind Eladia as she led the way. My heels clicked against the floor, which further annoyed me along with the slit going up my thigh. “If I move the wrong way, I could flash someone!” I whisper to Eladia who just giggled. “You look marvelous and you'll do perfect.” Her words did little to encourage me, but I still tried to calm my nerves with a deep breath.