Originals Freya Novels & Stories

Ramil’s face immediately turned red due to excitement. “Alright. I’ll tell mom.” Jacob winked at Freya. Freya almost screamed because of what Jacob did. Of course, the young Freya is still a Filipina girl with a fustle effect. Jacob laughed at his reaction. “You’re really cute,” Jacob said. Rhea, Ramil and Freya looked at Jacob.

My eyes widened when I heard that Freya was still alive, but she was used as some sort of hooker. “What are the chances she will be here tonight?” I asked, leaning forward. “What are the chances that she is going to be brought in here as one of the women that I will need to sleep with?” He shrugged. “I don’t know, Alpha, but we should know what she looks like to choose her from the rest of the girls.” I shook my head. “It’s been a while, but I might know her from her scent.” He shook his head. “That’s the thing, Alpha. They are covered in herbs and spices. You can’t trace them.”

I asked even though it was straightforward. Freya shifted on her feet, her hair slipping from her shoulder and exposing it. “I can't go back home,” she said, then lifted her eyes. My heart tightened when I noticed how her eyes glistened and she sniffed as if fighting the urge to be vulnerable. “I really can't go back to that man.” She smiled but the sadness in her eyes deepened, making me clasping the phone tightly. “Duncan, don't listen to her.” I jerked backwards and Freya let out a squeal searching the area and that was when I remembered that I was on a call with Lucien

I turned to see what they were looking at and my breath hitched when I saw Freya gliding towards Ryan, a love struck smile on her face. Freya was wearing an embellished white gown that was way grander than the simple one I wore for our wedding. Her hair was pinned up with a few loose curls and her face was made up heavily, bright red lipstick on her lips. And she was standing next to my Ryan as if she belonged with him. For the first time since Freya came to the pack, I felt like I was the outsider who came between them. I was losing my Ryan to her.

Everyone swooned as Freya walked down the aisle on her fathers arm. Alexander appeared ten feet tall, chest puffed, dark eyes blazing as his peers cooed. Helena waited at the top of the aisle with the proudest smile on her face. I was focused on the slightly-rumpled Phillipe, unsure whether his eyes being green today was good or bad. Freya's white and green gown is a Grecian wonder of soft, flowing pale silk. Enhancing her shape perfectly, with a low cust bust, twisting green garlands and a delicate white satin cloak, she made a perfect Luna.

And then she appeared. Freya stepped out from behind a tree, her entire figure shrouded in black leather, sleek and polished. Her hair was pulled back, and her expression… it was hard, cold, and more calculating than I had ever seen. She was nothing like the woman I had known, the one who would cry on my shoulder and plead for my support. No, this version of her looked almost… predatory. She took a step forward, her eyes locking onto mine. “So, Caleb,” she started, her voice dripping with a mock sweetness that chilled me, “Good to see you again. Does me some good to know you care about me."

Kyro keeps his silence for a long moment, and my words slip without my knowledge. "You follow her because it isn't survival you seek; it's death," I breathe, his evil eyes burning through mine. I'm not intimidated by it, as I bore my gaze through his with equal determination. "Who/what is she?" Kyro pauses, keeping his silence as his gaze impairs mine, searching for something, but I don't know what? "Freya is a Fae… wielding two elements," a suffocating air of shock hangs over us. What the fuck shit...?

She retaliated violently. “Who did you say you are?” Arthur's mother intervened in their argument. Freya bowed to her. "I am Freya, a maiden orphan from this pack," she said. Luna scowled at herself. "Maiden orphan? Who are your parents?” Freya took a deep swallow. "Her conscience is weighing in on her. She must be afraid that I am that child." She faked a smile. "I know nothing about my parents. I grew up with my deceased aunt.”

Laughter broke the silence when a jeer came from somewhere in the crowd that if she truly was one of them, she had to have been the runt of the litter. Rather than be insulted, Freya joined them in laughter. When things calmed down once more, she filled her lungs with air. “My name is Freya Toba,” she announced with a clear voice. “I stopped keeping track of my age when I reached five-hundred years. I am one of the few remaining original werewolves who were cast into this dimension by King Landon.” “Who is King Landon?” someone shouted.

Hayley told her with watery eyes. “Just be quiet. Let it all out.” Earnestine reiterated. Freya dressed up in a blue flare gown, her black hair was tied into an onion bulb, she stared at the mirror, her gaze meeting the sparkling chains on her neck. The long gold earrings glittered, as the rays of the sun struck it. She looked like an angel. Freya exhaled, closing her eyes. Janeka helped with the make-up, and she looked gorgeous. Eamon texted her the address of where they'd meet, and her sisters made sure she'd look stunning or possibly more than that. Her blue heel shoes matched the long blue flare gown.