Freya Originals Novels & Stories

Swinging her purple hair to the wind with a bottle of beer and talking to Jayden seductively. They know each other? I froze. Freya always trapped men with her beauty,one her stepdad's uses for reaping from other Alphas. Something in my heart twisted for a second longer before Greek whispered. Is he the Alpha your father spoke about?

Tears rolls freely down my cheeks. He continues his taunts. “Did your mother not tell you the origin of your birth?” he drawls mockingly, a smug look on his face. “Oh, it slipped my memory that I fed from her, draining all her bitter blood. Then I guess, I have to do the honours.” He leans closer. “You, Freya is an hybrid. Hybrids like you are dangerous and should be kept in correctional facilities.” My fingers dig into my palm, almost drawing blood. He's lying.

Freya teased. “Of course I’ve fucked around! But this… I’ve never… partnered with anyone. Not like this. Not like with you, alright. It’s kinda… I can’t even explain it.” Freya simply smiled at hir, then gave hir a peck on hir cheek. “Me neither,” she said. “Or, rather, same with me.” She then dove into Lucifer’s ear with a wet tongue as her hand continued further. She whispered at hir with a heat and heaviness that should be counted as illegal, even as her fingers danced across hir growing erection.

But for a second, she didn’t have a comeback. “Alaina?” Adrian’s voice cut through the tension like a warm wind breaking a storm. I turned to him, grateful. “Adrian.” He glanced between me and Freya, his curiosity piqued. “And you are?” “I’m—” Freya began, but Adrian stepped in smoothly. “One of the omegas from my pack, maybe?” he offered, clearly dismissing her presence. Freya’s face tightened, her mouth falling open slightly before she snapped, “No. I’m the beta’s daughter from—”

Cronus spoke aloud, “She showed such promise in training and we were all excited to see how far she could go. She is survived by Dreyma Caulret who managed to survive into one of our most strikingly beautiful avian fae variety.” Freya’s picture was put up on a stand by Lyra. It was our standard enlistment picture that we had taken when we first showed up to our notice. She was wearing a simple green jumpsuit and her hair was pulled back. This didn’t represent Freya at all. She was a girl who let her hair down. Dreyma’s counterpart and someone who was meant to stay with us after we crossed the barrier. We had a secret plan to keep her and Dreyma together just so they didn’t have to always won

This was genuinely my first time seeing someone happy to be here, or maybe she had just come to terms with her present situation. I gave her a crooked smile and started cutting the vegetables in front of me. “What’s your name?” I asked, trying to start a conversation. I didn't really have any friends here and since I was probably going to die here, it wouldn't hurt to make one. “Amara.” It suited her. “I’m Freya.” Amara leaned her hip lightly against the counter as she worked beside me. “Been here long?” “A little while.” Would she understand if I told her long enough to know my way around but not long enough to understand exactly what was happening.

Freya retorted and walked into the bathroom. Sarah shrugged and changed into a new set of clothes. Minutes later, Freya walked out of the bathroom, a black towel wrapped around her. “You have a nice tattoo.” Sarah commented, seeing the ink of a moon and cross next to each other, on Freya's collarbone. “It's not a tattoo. It's a birthmark.” Freya corrected, going through the clothes in her side of the wardrobe, confused. After more than ten minutes of searching for something to wear, she settled for a skirt which stopped at her ankle and a crop top.

So of course, I did what most abandoned or orphaned children did, and made up my own story. I had been just about everyone over the years, I had been Charlotte, the betas daughter travelling to see the world. Bethany the abused daughter of an unforgiving man, looking for shelter and compassion. Martha, the baker’s daughter. Judy, the traveller’s wife. Michelle, the starving artist. Opal, the musician. Tracey the writer. Louise the ‘dancer’ and Grace the stylist. But in fact, I was Freya, the abandoned rogue. It didn’t have quite the same air of adventure, did it? then I guess that reality never does.

I closed my eyes and started thinking about my life. My name is Freya and I am 17 years old. I am a member of the Blue Crescent pack. I am living in the basement of the backhouse because I was not like any ordinary member of the pack because my father was mated to a vampire and, as their child; I am a born hybrid. The pack members were not ready to accept a Vampire in their pack. My father was a great warrior, and the Alpha didn’t want to lose a fearless warrior like him, so he accepted my parents but gave them a house a little farther away from the other house. We were all living a happy life and my mother was pregnant with another child. She was having some complications on her labour day.

“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.