Niklaus's eyes glowed in the darkened bedroom. His breathing had become ragged. Sweat appeared on his forehead.
"Niklaus?" Freya repeated, alarmed by his appearance. "What's wrong with you?"
His muscular body was tense beneath his t-shirt. "I don't know." His voice was deeper than usual. It was husky with something primal. "I feel hot."
Freya sat up and moved away until her back pressed against the headboard. "It was the soup," she realized. "Your mother put something in it."
A low laugh escaped him as he moved closer. "Always so smart, aren't you, Freya?" He reached out and ran his fingers along her bare leg where his shirt had ridden up. "My brilliant mate."
She slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me. We're not mates anymore, remember? I rejected you."
"Did you?" He leaned closer. His scent surrounded her. It was clean from his shower but with underlying notes of musk and cedarwood. "I haven't agreed yet."
Niklaus grabbed her chin. His gaze burned as he stared at her mouth.
"Stay away from me," she warned out loud, pushing at his chest.
Niklaus was angered by Freya's blunt rejection. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head in one swift movement. His body loomed over hers, powerful and intimidating.
"You still despise me?" he growled. "Let's talk about how you sleep with me that first night but called out Jonas's name in your sleep."
Freya froze. "What?"
His grip tightened. "Don't pretend you don't know. If it wasn't me that day, you would sleep with Jonas, wouldn't you? or any Alpha just for money?"
His words insulted her. In her anger, she slapped Niklaus across the face.
The sharp crack of the slap echoed in the room.
The anger in Niklaus's eyes burned even more fiercely.
"Am I wrong?" His face was inches from hers now. His breath was hot against her skin. "You claimed me as your mate in front of everyone and trapped me in this marriage. But your heart has always belonged to someone else."
Niklaus couldn't accept that Freya had forced her way into his life. Freya didn't get to decide when it was over.
Freya looked at Niklaus with some grievance. She was still being tormented by his humiliating words. He was accusing her of being a slut. Every time he brought up the public ceremony, Freya felt an unbearable sense of powerlessness.
He always unintentionally made her recall that desperate and humiliating night.
Now it seemed he hated her for taking away Rebekah's Luna position.
"Fine," she whispered harshly. "You're right about everything. I used you. Now I'm freeing up the position..."
Before she could finish, Niklaus silenced her with a dominating kiss.
Freya was stunned. Her hands pressed against his chest, trying futilely to push him away. However, what she got was a deeper and fiercer kiss. There was no tenderness, only possessive force.
He bit her lip. She tasted a hint of blood. She felt dizzy from lack of oxygen until his burning hands touched her and pulled her back to reality.
She turned her head to avoid his kiss. "Niklaus, let me go."
His hands released her wrists to slide down her sides. His fingers dug into her hips. The shirt rode up as he pressed against her. His body was hard and unyielding.
"Tell me you don't want this," he demanded against her lips. "Tell me to stop."
Freya couldn't form words. Her body left her gasping and arching into him despite herself. But even as her body surrendered, she noticed something had changed. The desperation in his touch felt different. It was more genuine than any intimacy they'd shared before.
His hands moved to the buttons of her borrowed shirt. He popped them open skillfully. As his mouth traveled down her neck, Freya closed her eyes. She hated herself for wanting this, for wanting him.
Suddenly, a shrill ringing cut through the room. Niklaus froze. His head snapped toward the sound. His phone glowed on the nightstand, displaying a name that made Freya's stomach drop.
Rebekah
For a moment, he didn't move. Then, slowly, he pulled away from Freya. The glow in his eyes dimmed as he reached for the phone.
His gaze met hers. Conflict was evident in his expression. Then he looked at the phone again and stood up.
"Rebekah? What's wrong?" His voice was controlled now, professional. All traces of passion were gone.
Freya watched as his face transformed from confused to concerned. She couldn't hear what was being said on the other end, but she could see its effect on Niklaus.
"I'll be right there," he said firmly. "Try to stay calm."
He ended the call and immediately began gathering his things.
"What happened?" Freya asked, pulling the shirt closed over her exposed skin.
"She can't feel her legs," Niklaus said tersely. "She's panicking."
"So you're just going to leave?" Freya couldn't keep the bitterness from her voice. "In the middle of the night? In the middle of... this?"
He paused, looking at her disheveled on the bed. For a second, she thought he might stay. Then his expression hardened.
"She needs me."
The three simple words cut deeper than any knife.
Without another word, Niklaus strode to the door and yanked it open. In the hallway, he nearly collided with his mother.
Margaret's eyes widened at the sight of her fully dressed son. "Where are you going at this hour?"
"Work emergency," Niklaus lied smoothly.
"But... but the soup," Margaret stammered. "You drank so much chicken soup. Are you sure you can focus on work?"
"I'm an Alpha. What effect does that little medicine have on me? Don't drug me next time."
Niklaus left quickly.
"Not drugged! Enhanced," Margaret corrected quickly. "It's just herbs to lower inhibitions. I was worried about my grandchildren!"
In the silence of the bedroom, Freya touched her swollen lips. Her body still hummed with unfulfilled desire. It was a cruel reminder of what almost happened. What might have happened if Rebekah hadn't called.
He chose her, she thought bitterly. He'll always choose her.
Vicki whimpered inside her. He is ours. We can still fight for him.
"No," Freya whispered aloud. "I'm done fighting for someone who doesn't want me."
She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.
Tonight had shattered her last remaining illusion.
