?Chapter 479:


    A sick realization hit him.


    He froze, focusing inward. His face darkened. He’d been drugged—without even realizing it.


    “Freya,” he called, his voice low and maic, thick with an edge he didn’t mean to have.


    Freya turned, her wide eyes ringed withshes, curious and watchful. She caught the look in his eyes and her brows creased. “What is it?”


    “Do you feel anything strange in your system?” Kristian asked, his voice raspier now, as the heat inside him threatened to overwhelm him.


    Freya blinked.


    Her body had always had a higher tolerance for drugs, so her reaction was slower.


    Other than the odd scent she’d noticed when she first stepped inside, nothing had felt off—she’d been too focused on tracking the source of the signal block.


    Seeing that she seemed fine, Kristian gave a warning. “Grab a towel, wet it, and cover your nose and mouth. Try not to breathe the air directly.”


    It wouldn’t fix everything, but it was something.


    Freya hesitated, noticing the flushed color in his cheeks.


    “Go,” Kristian urged, his voice low, eyes growing darker by the second.


    Freya pulled a mask from her purse, went into the bathroom, dampened it, wrung it out, and slipped it on. The strange scent in the room faded almost instantly.


    Once she stepped out, Kristian moved toward her.


    Freya opened her mouth to ask what he was doing, but he stopped just in front of her. His voice was rough, almost unfamiliar. “No matter what happens, don’te in.”


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    Freya frowned.


    “If you ignore me and I lose control and something happens, that’ll be on you.” Without waiting for a response, Kristian turned and disappeared into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.


    A momentter, the sound of running water echoed through the room. Freya instantly understood what he meant.


    But if he’d been drugged like that, a cold shower wouldn’t do much, would it?


    Kristian proved her right soon enough.


    The icy water only cooled his skin—his body burned hotter than ever. The desire surged stronger than it had on their wedding night. It was relentless, maddening.


    But one thing rang clear through it all. He couldn’t touch Freya. No matter how much they fought, how deep their resentment ran—she wasn’t his wife anymore. He couldn’t cross that line.


    “Kristian.” Freya’s voice, calm and cool, floated through the door and sliced through the chaos in his head.


    To him, her voice was both salvation and torture.


    Memories rose like a flood. He couldn’t afford to lose control—he’d regret it for the rest of his life.


    He clenched his fists, teeth gritted, and growled, “Don’t talk!” What a foolish woman. Didn’t she understand that silence was the only way to stay safe?


    “Open the door,” Freya said, her tone unshakable.


    Kristian felt himself unraveling. Why couldn’t she just listen? He knew exactly what would happen. If he opened that door, if heid eyes on her—the beast would win.


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