RAFAEL'S POV

My room is intact, just as I left it. Everything in its place.

I unbutton my shirt, slipping into casual pajamas, when the sound of a door creaking catches my attention. Freya steps out of the room, wrapped in nothing but a towel, her skin still damp from the bath. She walks toward me, her gaze lowered.

"The bath is ready, Alpha," she says softly, eyes glued to the floor.

I take a step toward her. One. Two. Three. I'm close enough to feel the quick rise and fall of her chest. She's nervous. I can tell. But hell, so am I. This whole damn situation is one...