Freya's POV
I took off running.
I continued even though the chilly night air hurt my lungs. I was unable to.
As I forced my way through the thick forest, branches ripped at my flesh. I could still smell the heavy, oppressive smell of blood. It had stained my hands—my hands.
I was unsure if I had murdered him.
However, I couldn't risk staying.
I wouldn't have been safe if I had done it, if something inside of me had exploded and taken over. Not for my pack. Not for Finnick.
Not even for me.
As I sprinted farther into the trees, tears clouded my vision. My heart pounded wildly and frantically against my ribs. I required clarification. I had to know what was going on with me.
My mind replayed everything Darius had said. A bloodline cursed. Power that ought to be absent.
Was he referring to this? Was I turning into something strange?
I froze when I heard a sharp noise.