Freya Winters Books Novels & Stories

she snapped. As Gwendoline headed toward Luthias, I took a deep breath and extended my hands. As I uttered with as much of a brogue as I could manage the words “Amach an bac go surrounds dúinn go léir a ghlacadh mé sibh sios anois a dhéanamh titim ye” over and over again, I could see the energy wavering, but not breaking. Determined to succeed, I grew bolder with emphasis as I continued to repeat the words. Gwendoline had almost reached the edge of the barrier where Luthias huddled in obvious pain before the wall finally fell away. Although excited to have accomplished something many experienced witches couldn’t manage, I was completely spent and barely able to make my way into the cottag

“And the plans?” Freya pulls out a leather bound book, handing it to me with a small smile. “By blood I wrote, by will I surrender, by trust you read.” She says, doing this with Druida, Cian and Angel as well. “This is everything I ever recorded Jess telling me, plus maps I have drawn from memory. You can read it now, no one else but me can.” Alora takes the book and puts it in her cross bag, making sure it’s secure in there. Freya exhales, looks at her mate whose eyes are as serious as they are dark with his inner storm.

The elves work quickly, expertly conjuring intricate, warm magical shields around the sleeping areas, and the dark fae raise their eerie, silent blue-black flames for light and residual warmth. Wolves and lycans scatter immediately to scout posts like restless, wary shadows racing over the snow crust. The constant, howling wind won’t leave me alone, and for some reason, I can’t stand the thought of sitting still and quiet tonight. I slip away from the warmth of the camp and wander alone until the noise of the warriors fades completely behind me. The mountains feel eerily hollow out here. Too quiet...too vast. But that's exactly what I need. I sense movement, and my entire body instantly goes

That day, she lost her parents at the hands of the pack's ruling family. Freya is the Alpha Princess whose parents were murdered seventeen years ago. She is the little girl who ran for her life after witnessing her parents die. She ran into the woods, having nowhere else to go, and ended up as a rogue. Freya has been living as a secret assassin for seventeen years, carrying out missions for people just so she can survive, and she has promised to avenge her parents' deaths at any time so she can reclaim her throne. She is now on a mission to eliminate the Alpha King of the Oasis Pack. Alpha Arthur is the son of the couple who murdered her parents, and now is her chance to exact revenge. She w

Axel asked, clearly enjoying this more than he should. “She was the Queen Luna, and why would she title the book Barbara’s fantasies when that is not even her name?” “Maybe because she didn’t want Slade finding out. Though some experiences had been purely made up, simply fantasies, but I must say, Freya did have her own fair share of men and cocks.” He say with a teasing smile. I couldn’t believe it; the very same book I read and ‘enjoyed’ was written by Freya Blackwood. “How did you know?” I questioned, choosing not to believe him yet, even if he didn’t have any reason to lie.

"Yes, and since you don't remember me I'll gladly introduce myself to you once more." "I am Freya, the leader of the healers who reside in Hephalis,home to the mighty beast who soar above the limitations of mortals, my dear Skye," she uttered, and the lights suddenly flickered on and off, as a huge shadow casted down on the wall. And in front of me, was the same woman I was talking to seconds ago, but this time, she had a pair of huge fiery wings. What the hell is happening? Is this another nightmare?!

Miranda POV I threw my thick down winter coat onto the chair and flopped face down onto my bed. I didn't even bother to take my boots off, which will be to my demise later when I have to walk through the wetness of the melted snow on my carpet, but I just couldn't deal with the world for even one more minute. Of course, I’m never truly alone and my dog jumps up behind me to prove my point. She is eager to see me after a long day at work and starts to lick my neck and face with her coarse, wet tongue, and as gross as it actually is, I still find it comforting. It's not her fault I'm in such a crabby mood, and all she wants is to be let outside for a good run and to empty her bladder. It o

Freya slowly closed her eyes. Breathing. Slow. Steady. The world around her slowly faded. Voices. Movement. Everything disappeared. She focused. Not fear. Not pain. Only herself. Something warm slowly moved beneath her skin. Small. Gentle. Not violent. Not wild. Her breathing slowed. Her fingers trembled slightly. There. Her wolf. Closer this time. Do not run. Her wolf sounded calmer. Stronger. Freya stayed still. Heat slowly spread through her body.

Carmen screamed at me, I stopped dead in my tracks and then in a deep voice, and through gritted teeth I replied, “She's not a damn dog, she's my Fianna!” I then flew up into the night's sky as Freya shifted back into her human form, lovingly cradled in my arms. To be continued The story continues in book three, Honored By A Hunter. Hope you're enjoying the series so far, and thank you for reading xxx

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.