DESMOND
I regret it the moment I said it. But it’s too late as my beautiful mate is now staring at me with huge shocked eyes. Way to ruin the moment, Desmond.
“Is that true?” tears blink in her eyes, although I know very well she’ll probably prefer to hold them back, “The real Freya is dead?”
“You are the real Freya,” I pull her closer into my embrace, “And she was the old Freya…”
“Sounds horrible,” my mate mumbles somewhere into my neck and I exhale heavily.
“Maybe,” I agree with her, “But it is what it is. It’s impossible to get rid of the royal seal without the king. The Crown of Dairon… It’s an artifact, Freya. When it accepts the new bearer, it multiplies his or her powers. The element of this person becomes… something else, something new… The magic that this person creat
