Freyja Lothbrok Novels & Stories

She remained silent for a while bowing down her face in her own grief. "Is there anything the matter my child? You appeared to be very gloomy as we speak; please, kindly communicate your distress and I promise to be of assistance, should you need any." "Dad!" Broderick called, in a thick and sorrowful voice. He continued, "She is the first of the two beloveth children of a most affectionate, indulgent father, and had, in consequence of her best friend relationship with this Bob Joker, for her rejection she was raped and murdered by him from a very early period. Freya's father had died too long ago because she was the only living witness of the crime scene. Now, as we speak, the rest of her f

But no matter what she did, his gaze always drifted back to Freya, standing across the room with her ethereal grace. "Why her?" Jessica whispered under her breath, bitterness coating her words. She thought of how Freya had smiled, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil she caused. It infuriated Jessica that someone so unworthy could effortlessly captivate Rafe. Freya Hadid, the girl who shouldn't belong, had somehow become the center of Rafe's world. Jealousy surged within her like a tidal wave. She had tried everything, yet it was never enough. Freya, with her delicate beauty and mysterious allure, had managed to snare the Alpha king's heart without even trying. Jessica felt the sting of reject

Lust stirred under the stirrups of Wotan’s faded blue trousers, and he grinned at his wild wife. “Free, a drink for your parched ember, from your golden lap,” Wotan winked. Freida grinned, her strawberry blonde hair, peach skin, and freckles aglow as her eyes glowed like copper. “Not my lap – my sword.” Freida, Warrior Mother of the pantheons of the Northern Holds and land of midnight sun, took her blade – shaped like a longsword – it’s opal flesh shining like moonlight out of its gold and ruby hilt, and pressed the tip of razors and ravens claws gently into her grizzled grey harreled hoary husband’s lip, drawing blood.

Freya winced every few steps her mark bleeding again, slowly this time, like it was mourning. Then a voice echoed around us. “You came.” It was smooth, layered, and full of time. And then she stepped out. Liora. Her hair was longer than Freya’s, streaked with vines and silver light. Her eyes glowed like moons. She wore a cloak made of ivy and old feathers, and the moment I saw her, I felt the weight of her power press down on me like gravity. Freya didn’t move. “Why?” she asked. “Why did you curse me?”

She was trying desperately to mend the situation. “She is not Freya! She can never be Freya!” Clinton interrupted. His voice was thick with emotion. “Freja is timid and introverted, the kind who prefers to stay in the shadows. But Freya…. uhmm....” His voice softened, “Freya was vibrant, self-assured, and effortlessly commanded any room she entered.”

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

I quickly explained to my father. “What? Why would she do that?” Landon hissed at me. “I just said, I don't know!” I barked back at him. “Stop!” My father yelled at us, and we both shot our heads around to look at him, then he snapped, “Tristan, carry on.” “So, Amber had Freya pinned to the floor. Freya threw Amber off of her, then...” I went to carry on, but my father abruptly cut me off, “Wait. Freya did what? How the hell did she manage to throw a wolf?” He asked me in shock, and I just shrugged at him in reply. “What did she do next?” My father asked, his eyes filling with fascination.

"You dragged me up here in February as collateral and it took you five months and a war to learn how to open your hand. I watched you learn it. It nearly killed you both times. And now you're standing at your own glass in your own kingdom trying to give away the one thing you actually want in the entire world because some broken part of you still, still, thinks you don't get to keep good things." "Zariah-" My voice, raw at the edges. "You said there's nothing holding me here." She took another step. "You're right. No debt, no gun, no cage. Naomi gave me the card on the tarmac and told me I was the freest woman in Georgia and she wasn't wrong." Another step. She was close now, close enough th

The vibration of the command was so powerful that the Janissaries fell to their knees, their minds now cleansed of any loyalty other than to the sovereign before them. Cedrik, recovering from the shock, watched the woman he loved transform into the mystical force that Elder Harek had prophesied. Freya’s protection was not merely physical; it was the very order of the world being restored. She walked toward Isolde, who roared in fury and tried to summon her shadows, but Freya’s light dissipated them like the dawn dispels a nightmare.

I caught his wrist and snapped the bone instantly. He laughed again, mad, absolutely mad. Then suddenly I saw someone coming in, it was Lena. The princess strode into the corridor with two northern warriors behind her. Her amber eyes widened briefly at the destruction. “Well,” she said dryly. “Things escalated pretty quickly here.” The attacker hissed violently at the sight of her. “Vale blood.” Lena’s expression sharpened. “You know us?” “The old packs remember.” Then he lunged again, directly towards Gina.