The name Siren followed Freya Helvar around like a curse from the moment her powers first manifested in a raid on her village. With the image of her father's charred corpse and her brother's disgusted face on her mind, she is hauled to the Little Pa...
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THE TWO WEEKS they spent travelling from Ulensk to Os Alta for the upcoming winter fete were the best in Freya's life. Never before had she felt so giddy and exhilarated. So ready to continue to the next day. If ever asked, she'd completely deny that it had everything to do with a certain golden-haired Prince of Ravka. Because no, she most definitely didn't kiss the second son of the King and no, she most certainly wasn't craving his touch every moment of every day.
Her desires were fulfilled every evening when they stopped for the night. She'd end up with her back pressed to a wall or a tree, a firm chest pushing into her and hands grasping her waist, hips, and jaw. And Nikolai's lips would always find her own, heated and taking what he wanted. Sometimes, it was the other way around and he was the one who was getting ravished. Freya didn't think she'd ever tire of mouthing her way from his lips to his jaw, then his neck and his collarbones.
Every whimper and muffled moan she drew out of him was like music to her ears, sending goosebumps down her skin. It must've been the same for him as well because she didn't know why he'd spend so long kissing her every night when they finally found a way to be alone if that wasn't the case.
When she snuck her way back to the group afterwards, Luca and Vanya would be there every time waiting for her. Vanya always pretended that she didn't know anything, but Luca raised a mocking brow at her every night. Sometimes, even Harshaw would tease her, but he'd drifted off towards the Grisha he was more familiar with.
Their time together in Mosava was something they both wished to forget. It was easier if he didn't have to look at her. Freya understood, she did. At times, she found herself feeling suffocated when she looked at Leanne. The girl was innocent of everything, but her presence managed to reel in unwanted memories now and then. Freya chose to ignore that to the best of her abilities because Leanne often made her way towards her during the day.
She was the one she was most familiar with, save for Harshaw, and that led to her always seeking either of their presence. Harshaw was constantly aloof though, not a good person to lean on for stability and surety. Freya was nineteen, scared and lonely herself, but she tried her best to provide Leanne with anything she might need.
By the end of the second week, the Grisha had to separate from the First Army soldiers escorting Nikolai. The towers of Os Alta came into view and soon after they were riding off towards the Little Palace. The sight of the familiar dome roofs sent a thrill up Freya's spine. It had been a little over a year and a half since she was last here. She'd almost forgotten what it all looked like.
The walls surrounding the Little Palace provided some much-needed comfort. A shield between her and everything that had hurt her on the outside. And when the sound of children laughing filled her ear, bright and carefree, Freya couldn't help but smile the widest grin she could. The young Grisha students were running around, tossing snowballs at each other and making snow angels in the cold white layers blanketing the ground.
