Ch. 11..15: A Warrior Luna's Awakening Chapter 11-15

Chapter 11

Freya’s POV

When I returned to the den that night, the first thing I smelled was his scent.

Caelum was home.

It surprised me. Ever since Aurora returned to the capital, Caelum rarely stepped paw into the villa. The place still carried my scent–but fainter now, like a fading claim on territory no one respected anymore.

“I spoke with my mother,” he said as I closed the door behind me. “She still wants Dr.Smith to be her primary healer. Talk to him. Make sure he continues her treatment.”

I turned slowly to face him, a humorless snarl curling at the edge of my lips.

He truly thought someone like Elder Smith–one of the Lycan War Medics, whose hands had once stitched generals back from death–could be ordered around like a pack pup?

Elder Smith only agreed to treat Eleanor out of respect for my late parents–wolves who bled for the realm. It wasn’t something that money, or name, or rank could buy.

“You can book an appointment like everyone else,” I said coldly. “If you’re lucky, maybe someone will cancel. Or—” I gave him a slow glance, “hire someone to fight for a slot. Isn’t that what rich Alphas do?”

Caelum’s brows twitched, a flicker of irritation rising in his eyes, but before he could speak, his phone rang.

His expression darkened as he answered. And when he ended the call, he turned to me like a wolf with aSmith in his paw.

“That day at the restaurant,” he said through gritted teeth, “someone leaked it to the media. The photos went viral. The headlines are accusing Aurora of being a homewrecker. They’re saying I’m married–and she’s the third.”

I said nothing. I knew what was coming next.

“You need to clear this up,” he snapped. “Make a public statement. Say it was a misunderstanding. Say you’re friends with Aurora and asked me to protect her that night.”

I blinked. For a moment, I truly thought I’d misheard him.

“You’re asking me… to lie?” I said, my voice sharp as fang.

“For her career. She just got promoted to Wing. If this scandal spreads her reputation will

“Will what?” I interrupted, laughing bitterly. “Be tarnished by the truth?”

He flinched at the edge in my voice.

“You forget,” I continued, stepping closer until I was within the edge of his Alpha aura, “that night… when the Rogues echoed, you pushed me aside–and shielded her. Do you know what that felt like?”

His silence spoke volumes.

“I thought… maybe after three years of mating, even if you didn’t love me, there would be loyalty. But I was wrong. When danger came, you chose her.”

“She was in danger. It was instinct.”

“And Iwasn’t?” My claws itched.

He didn’t respond.

“She threw you away when you had nothing.” I snarled. “I was the one who stayed. Who bled. Who built everything beside you. And now, you ask me to be the one to save her honor?”

“She didn’t deserve this,” he snapped. “She’s worked hard to get where she is. You saying a few words–what’s the harm?”

I stared at him. “The harm? This isn’t about a few words. This is about truth. And I won’t rewrite history to protect your moonlit darling.”

“Freya-”

“You care so much,” I cut in, voice cold as a blizzard. “If she was that important, why didn’t you ask for the mate–bond to be severed the moment she returned?”

He paused. Like I’d clawed through his chest and scraped the truth raw.

“I made a vow when we married,” he muttered. “I said I would never forsake you.”

I almost laughed.

“No, Caelum,” I said. “You just didn’t want to be the Alpha who clawed his way to power and tossed aside the mate who helped him build it. You wanted both–your white moonlight and your golden reputation.”

His face hardened, but I didn’t stop.

“If you’d really meant to honor that vow, you wouldn’t have let your wolves mock me. You wouldn’t have missed the day I retrieved my parents‘ ashes… just because Aurora.”

My voice shook with barely leashed fury. “They were my parents. Warriors. Heroes. And I couldn’t even bring them home properly because my own mate couldn’t be bothered to show up.”

Caelum paled, his scent rippling with guilt.

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Then finally muttered, “I know. I failed you. Let me make it up. This weekend—I’ll come with you. We’ll visit their resting site. I’ll apologize. I should’ve gone with you when you brought them back.”

I knew what this was–his last–ditch effort to placate me.

There were only twenty nights left until the Moon Severing completed. After that, the bond would be dissolved. Our scents would no longer recognize each other as mates.

Truthfully, I didn’t need him to come.

But he did owe my parents an apology.

“…Fine,” I said.

But the weekend came and so did the disappointment.

“Sorry,” he said over the phone, voice dripping with guilt. “Last–minute emergency meeting at the firm. I can’t make it today. Next time, I promise.”

I ended the call quietly

No fight. No howl. Not even a sigh.

Because by now, I no longer had disappointment left to give.

Caelum had worn it all out of me–like a scent faded by wind and rain.

I stared at my phone for a moment, then opened my gallery.

There were barely any photos of us together. Maybe three or four, and even those were group pictures taken at company events. No wedding shots. We couldn’t afford a real ceremony then.

But in his phone? I’d once seen it,

An entire album filled with him and Aurora–smiling, embracing, glowing like fated mates under the stars.

So I began deleting. One by one, every photo of us vanished like smoke on the wind.

Then I turned to the house.

Anything that bore my mark–my scent, my presence–I began to pack. Slowly. Methodically.

Because the moon was waning, and with it, our time.

And once the Moon Severing ended…

I wouldn’t look back.

Send Gifts

Chapter 12

Freya’s POV

My wardrobe was almost bare. Just like my jewelry box.

In this grand estate built with my hands, the only thing Caelum and I truly owned together… was a pair of cheap, silver wedding bands.

They’d never seen sunlight–not once worn in public. Because Caelum had insisted we keep the mating bond hidden from the pack. Hidden from the world.

I held one of the rings in my palm, its dull metal glinting like forgotten promises.

I once believed it didn’t matter whether they were valuable. As long as his vow was sincere, it was enough.

But now I knew. In his eyes, I was worth as much as this ring–forgettable and easily replaced.

PLE

My phone buzzed. Lana’s name lit up the screen–my closest she–wolf and my last anchor in this fading storm.

Feel like getting out?” she asked cheerfully. “I want to visit the Runestone Grounds. Heard Alpha Silas Whitmore is showing up today.”

I blinked. “The Runestone Grounds?” I hadn’t been there in moons.

“It’s not like I want to see him,” Lana rushed to say, already coughing awkwardly. “I just… heard the Whitmore Clan is eyeing drone warfare for their Ironclad Fleet. My company’s got a prototype in development. If I can score a moment with him, maybe it opens doors.”

I frowned, immediately picturing Silas. That steel–cut jaw, the deadened obsidian eyes, the quiet dominance of a predator that never had to growl to command a room.

That wolf was dangerous–chained lightning in fur and skin.

“You’re not trying to flirt with death, are you?” I asked.

She laughed nervously, “I like my tail attached, thank you. But come with me? I need a buffer.”

1 hesitated. Every instinct in my bones said stay away. But Lana.. she was pack. And right now, my only one.

“…Fine,” I said, exhaling.

But when we arrived at the stone–swept clearing–surrounded by towering obsidian statues of legendary Alphas and Lunas–I caught a scent on the wind that made my hackles lift.

Caelum.

And not alone.

He was with Aurora.

They sat atop two obsidian–tusked shadowbeasts–massive lupine…ts used only for traditional displays of prowess. Both

dressed in ceremonial riding leathers, their figures gleaming under the dusklight like a royal pair.

He should’ve been in a so–called emergency summit meeting. But here he was, basking in the applause of highborns, parading beside Aurora like she was his destined mate.

Lana clicked her tongue beside me. “Seriously? Again? What are they–joined at the tail now?”

shrugged, my lips curling faintly. “Ignore them. They’ll vanish when the wind shifts.”

But Caelum had already caught my scent.

His beast turned sharply, hooves thundering across the stone before halting just in front of me. The air between us trembled

with tension.

142

“What are you doing here?” he demanded, voice low, tinged with possessiveness he no longer had the right to wield.

“I could ask you the same,” I replied coolly. “Did your urgent summit relocate to a ceremonial proving ground?”

He looked… rattled. Briefly.

Lana didn’t miss a beat. “Guess next time the summit will be held in bed.”

His eyes narrowed. “Watch your tongue. I don’t care if you’re Freya’s friend–insult me again and see what happens.”

Lana bared her teeth. “Try me, mutt.”

I stepped between them. “Back off, Caelum. If you so much as lay a claw on her, I’ll announce your affair with Aurora in front of the entire Elder Circle.”

His scent flared with rage. “You wouldn’t dare.”

I smiled slowly. “Wouldn’t I?”

He went silent. He’d spent a fortune burying those first scandalous headlines. The last thing he wanted was for the rot to surface again.

That’s when Aurora’s mount trotted up beside him. She looked down at me like I was something clinging to her boots.

“You really can’t help yourself, can you?” she said, her voice syrupy with venom. “Always playing the pitiful she–wolf, clinging to a bond that was dead long ago. Do you really think blackmail will make him love you again?”

Lana inhaled sharply, but I grabbed her wrist and stepped forward.

“You crossed into a bonded male’s scent field. You’re the disgrace. Don’t think your title gives you the right to play victim.”

Aurora’s gaze sharpened. “Love isn’t a crime. The real crime is you–three years and he never marked you. Doesn’t that tell you everything?”

Then she snapped the reins and galloped, her shadowbeast thundering across the arena like a phantom. The audience howled in delight. The sight was impressive, I’d admit. Fierce. Feminine. And entirely staged.

Caelum’s gaze followed her like a moonstruck pup.

“She’s not like you,” he said without looking at me. “She’s confident. Wild. Free. She doesn’t obsess over petty things. You shouldn’t have followed me here.”

My chest constricted.

“Obsess?” I repeated. “Is that what you call it when I ask for respect? When I demand you keep promises to the dead?”

Chapter 13

Freya’s POV

As Caelum dug his heels into the side of his shadowbeast and galloped after Aurora, I stood there in the middle of the obsidian arena, stunned.

He truly believed I followed him here? That I tracked him like some desperate omega in heat?

My claws itched.

Beside me, Lana nearly growled, her perfectly lined eyes flaring with fire. “What in the nine hells is wrong with those two?! Followed them? What next, say you’re lurking in their den walls?”

After

I shook my head slowly. “It doesn’t matter. After the Lunar Severance ends, they can do whatever they want. I won’t be watching.”

“But I want to maul something,” Lana hissed. “And that so–called pilot–ugh! Riding a beast and piloting an air–wing makes her think she’s untouchable? You flew in Iron Fang combat formations! She wouldn’t even make it past your shadow in the skies.”

I smiled faintly. For a flicker of a heartbeat, her words stirred old memories–of wind roaring in my ears, the cockpit vibrating beneath my hands, and the Iron Fang emblem stitched onto my chest as I soared above warring territories. That life… felt like a dream long faded.

“Come on. We’re not here for them,” I said, collecting myself.

“Yes, yes. The Whitmore Alpha awaits,” Lana nodded quickly. “We miss this window, who knows when he’ll appear again?”

The arena was vast. Even with our enhanced senses and strides, it took nearly fifteen minutes of weaving past polished stone monuments and shifting warrior exhibitions before we finally spotted him.

Silas Whitmore.

Surrounded by a ring of nobles and generals, his towering frame stood like obsidian carved to life. One of the wolves speaking to him was General Warrik–an old associate of Lana’s company.

I felt Lana straighten beside me. She was ready.”

But before we could step closer, a blur of movement cut into my path. A clawed hand seized my forearm–tight, possessive.

“How far are you planning to follow me, Freya?” Caelum hissed through gritted teeth.

I wrenched my arm free. “Get your filthy hand off me.”

He bared his teeth. “You’re stalking me now? You followed me all the way here?”

“I’m here for official business,” I snapped. “Or do you think you’re the center of the damn moon?”

He scoffed. “You? Business?”

Lana stepped forward, eyes blazing, but before she could shred him with words, Aurora returned–her shadowbeast’s steps silent, yet commanding. “Caelum, don’t waste time. Alpha Whitmore is waiting.”

Caelum glared at me one last time. “Don’t cause trouble. This alliance is important. I don’t need your petty drama ruining it.” Aurora brushed past me with a scoff, latching onto Caelum’s arm like she already wore his mark.

Strong women elevate their mates,” she said, loud enough for others to hear. “Weak ones just whine and resent. Guess that’s the difference.”

Then she looked at Caelum with a smile. “Let me

emy uncle introduce you properly.”

Of course. High Councilor Vaughn of the Bluemoon Pack–Aurora’s uncle–stood near Silas Whitmore.

Political grooming at its finest.

I watched as Caelum followed her like a dutiful hound.

Vaughn gave a formal nod and turned to Silas. “Alpha Whitmore, this is my niece Aurora–the first female flight lead in Bluemoon’s Airborne Wing. Beside her is Caelum Grafton, Alpha of Silverfang and head of SilverTech Forgeworks.”

Aurora stepped forward, voice syrupy. “We met at the Skyward banquet. Professor Hawthorne was present.”

Silas barely lifted a brow. “Don’t recall.”

Her smile froze.

Caelum tried to smooth the tension. “Alpha Whitmore, that night you showed exceptional courage. The way you disarmed that rogue assassin mid–meal–truly impressive.”

Silas offered a nod so minimal it bordered on boredom.

Just then, Lana and I stepped into the circle.

Caelum’s eyes snapped to me–and immediately, his brows furrowed.

What the hell are you doing?” he hissed. “Are you seriously following me around like some-”

I ignored him.

Lana stepped up, head high. “Alpha Whitmore. I’m Lana Rook from SkyVex Armaments. We specialize in aerial combat tech, and we’re developing a new prototype for high–altitude patrol rides. If you’re seeking to invest in long–range airborne defense–my door is open.”

No flattery. No fake deference. Straight to the point.

Whitmore turned his gaze slowly from Lana to… me.

“Freya Thorne,” he said, voice low and smooth. “So we meet again.”

I smiled with the kind of polish that comes from surviving battlefields. “Seems fate favors awkward reunions.”

“And you are…?” he asked pointedly.

“Currently consulting for SkyVex,” I said.

Lana beamed beside me. She knew what that meant–I was in.

“Freya will be our lead designer on this wing,” she added quickly. “Her combat experience with real airborne deployment gives us a unique edge.

Caelum stepped forward, face tightening. “Freya used to be part of SilverTech. Just a mid–level analyst. Hardly the expert she

claims to be.”

I turned to him with a slow, cold smile. “Correction–I used to be your mate. Now I answer to my own name, not your leash.”

Chapter 14

Freya’s POV

Just as the council murmurs began to grow, Aurora’s voice sliced through the air with calculated grace.

“Lana, you’re friends with Freya Thorne, I know you want her to leave a favorable impression on Lord Silas. But there’s no need to fabricate her credentials just to impress the Ironclad Alpha.”

Lana growled under her breath before snapping, “Fabricate? When Freya was engineering early–stage flight rigs for the Sky Patrol Riderwing Project, you were still clinging to wooden gliders and scripted simulations!”

Aurora turned, lips curled in a cold smile. “Oh? Then perhaps you could enlighten us–does she have a patent filed through SkyVex Armaments? Any completed combat modules under her name?”

Lana faltered.

She couldn’t say a word. Not because there wasn’t anything to say, but because everything I had worked on within the Iron Fang Recon Unit was cloaked under military contract. Oaths, classified archives, and the blood–bound sigil of secrecy forbade us from ever discussing what we built–or flew.

“So… that would be a no, then?” Aurora raised a sharp brow, her voice silken with mockery. “Lying about your rank might work at a tavern, but this is the Runestone Grounds.”

Snide chuckles rippled through the circle–mostly those aligned with the Bluemoon Pack.

Lana looked like she wanted to lunge at her, but I spoke first, calm but cold.

“Time separates truth from theatrics,” I said. “Whether I faked anything… you’ll see soon enough.”

Aurora gave a snort. “Still posturing. Keep going–reality has sharp teeth.”

Before I could respond, a low rumble signaled the arrival of something else.

A warbeast handler led in a runebound beast–sleek, jet black, with all four hooves marked in glowing white sigils. Its breath misted in the warm air,/muscles twitching beneath obsidian skin.

“This,” Vaughn announced with pride, “is a gift from the Bluemoon Pack to Lord Silas Whitmor. She’s volatile, yes, but has been broken in by our finest tamers. If you’re interested, perhaps you’d honor us by taking her for a test ride?”

Silas didn’t answer. He merely stood there, expression unreadable, gaze flicking once over the warbeast like it was a statue carved of smoke and muscle.

Silence spread, awkward and sharp.

Aurora stepped forward with a sudden eagerness. “If Lord Silas prefers not to, perhaps I may demonstrate her obedience. I’d be honored.”

She didn’t wait for anyone to grant permission–just turned toward the beast and leapt smoothly into the saddle, white cape fluttering behind her like frost. Her legs tightened at the beast’s flanks, and with a low command, the creature took off across the Grounds in a controlled gallop.

“She really is a marvel, someone from the Bluemoon entourage whispered.

“She flies, rides, and pilots–Aurora’s a force of her own.”

“If this were war–era, she’d be our banner–bearing warmaiden.”

Lana leaned toward me, her tone dripping disdain. “Warmaiden, my ass. She’s just a decorated pawn. All show, no soul.” Caelum Grafton, standing closer than I’d realized, must have heard her.

“Aurora is the definition of independent strength,” he said, stepping in smoothly, voice loud enough for others to catch. “She doesn’t waste her breath on dragging others down. Freya, instead of letting your little shadow bark on your behalf, why not

learn to rise above it?”

I didn’t flinch. “A truly independent woman wouldn’t need to warm the bed of a married Alpha.”

His eyes flared–but the setting kept his temper in check.

Meanwhile, Aurora was returning in a triumphant loop. She yanked at the reins, attempting to slow the beast, but something was off. The creature didn’t slow. Its gait became erratic, its eyes flashing with heat and untethered magic.

She pulled harder. No use. Panic flared in her eyes. One of her feet slipped from the stirrup.

Then–she screamed.

The warbeast charged straight toward the gathered officials. Council members scattered with shouts of alarm.

I grabbed Lana’s wrist and dragged her aside just in time. But my eyes caught something else–something worse.

Silas Whitmor.

Still standing. Unmoved. As if this entire show wasn’t happening around him.

And that beast, wild and enraged, was barreling straight toward him.

There was no time to think. My instincts took over.

I launched myself at him, wrapping an arm around his chest and throwing us both to the side in a roll, just as the beast streaked past like a living storm.

Gasps filled the arena. Someone shrieked. I couldn’t even hear my own breath.

I blinked. I was on the ground. His weight pressed against me, heavy and unmoving.

“Silas,” I rasped. “Did you get hit?”

He didn’t answer.

Fear twisted in my chest. What if that beast’s hooves had clipped him mid–roll?

I began to shift beneath him, trying to sit up to check. But then–I felt pressure against my shoulder, holding me down.

His voice–low, cool, and bone–deep steady–brushed my ear.

“Why did you save me?”

I stared up at him. “No reason,” I answered simply. “Instinct.”

Old soldier’s blood. My body had moved before my mind caught up.

“Instinct,” he echoed. He pushed himself up slowly, eyes–those abyss–deep eyes–locked on mine. He was above me. I was beneath him. His gaze wasn’t cold anymore. There was a flicker in it. A ripple in the void.

“If it were anyone else, I’d have done the same,” I said firmly.

Something unreadable passed through him.

Then I frowned. “If you’re not hurt, get off me already.”

A beat of silence.

He still didn’t move.

So I shoved him off and stood.

Across the field, the warbeast still roared–looping madly, hooves carving up dirt. Aurora, half–unconscious, was being tossed like a rag doll in the saddle.

“Help-!” she screamed. “Somebody stop it! Gods–get it to stop!”

No one moved. No one dared.

Then–the inevitable.

She lost her grip. The reins slipped from her hands, and in one final buck, the beast launched her. She crashed into the soft grass, hard enough to knock the wind out of her. She screamed in pain.

Caelum bolted forward, kneeling beside her. “Stay still–someone’s gone to fetch a medic. You’ll be okay.”

Just then–Lana’s voice cracked through the air like lightning.

“Freya–look out!”

I spun. The beast. It had locked on me.

Caelum started to rise, panic in his eyes, but Aurora caught his wrist. “Caelum, my ribs–it hurts-”

He hesitated.

And the beast charged me.

Aurora’s eyes gleamed with something–satisfaction? Malice? I didn’t care.

I didn’t freeze. I didn’t scream.

I moved.

My fingers snapped forward, catching the reins in mid–charge. And in one clean motion, I vaulted upward and slammed into the saddle.

The crowd went dead silent.

 

Chapter 15

Third Person’s POV

No one had expected it.

Freya Thorne had just leapt onto the back of the rune–marked warbeast–and stayed on.

The entire assembly stood frozen, watching in stunned silence as she deftly pulled the reins taut, leaned forward into the motion, and tightened her legs around the beast’s heaving flanks.

Her every movement was practiced, clean, exact.

There was no mistaking it–Freya wasn’t just a lucky rider. She was trained. Skilled. Unshakable.

Caelum Grafton’s expression was one of utter disbelief. He–Alpha of the Silverfang Pack, head of SilverTech Forgeworks- had been bonded to her for three years, yet never once had he seen this side of her.

The woman riding like a stormwind beneath the moon was a stranger to him.

That dark hair, streaming like shadow behind her, the fire in her eyes–she looked less like a noble’s discarded mate and more like a true warrior of the Fang Tribes.

Even Aurora, nestled in his arms, could barely contain her disbelief.

Freya? Riding a rune–charged warbeast?

And not just any beast–the same one that had thrown her moments ago.

Aurora’s nails dug into Caelum’s arm. She silently prayed the beast would throw Freya now. Hard. Let her fall. Let her be humbled.

But the opposite happened.

Round after round, the black warbeast began to calm under Freya’s control. It responded to her voice, her hands, her command. The fire in its hooves dimmed. The madness faded.”

By the time she returned to the circle, the air had shifted.

She had tamed the beast.

When she dismounted with a fluid swing of her leg, there was no pride on her face–only a cool, distant calm.

Caelum was still frozen. “You… when did you learn to ride and tame?”

“Does it matter?” she replied coldly, not even sparing him a glance.

He couldn’t speak. His throat was dry.

Freya’s gaze drifted to the woman still cradled in Caelum’s arms–Aurora.

“Riding a wild beast doesn’t impress me,” Freya said evenly. “But if the only reason you ride is to catch a man’s attention… then you and I have very different goals.”

With that, she handed the reins to one of the beastmasters waiting nearby.

Aurora’s face flushed, then paled. Freya’s words hit like a claw across the face.

Everything Aurora had mocked–Freya for–she now had to swallow.

And with Freya taming the warbeast, she had nothing left to throw back.

Lana Rook ran up to Freya’s side, her voice low and frantic. “Are you hurt? Gods, Freya-”

“I’m fine,” Freya said with a faint smile.

Lana exhaled. “You scared the hell out of me. Saving Silas was one thing, but charging back to tame that monster? What if something had gone wrong?”

“I don’t fall easily,” Freya said, her tone light but her eyes serious. “Besides… if I hadn’t stepped in, someone would’ve fallen. For good.”

Lana knew that tone. That deep–rooted sense of duty. Even though Freya had left the Iron Fang Recon Unit, her instincts as a soldier still ran deep. She didn’t hesitate when others froze.

On the other side of the grounds, Vaughn–Aurora’s uncle, the alpha of the Blumoon–was practically drenched in cold sweat as he reached Silas Whitmor.

“Lord Silas, I can’t apologize enough. I truly believed the beast was broken in. If anything had happened to you, the Bluemoon Pack would deserve to be wiped from the map.”

Silas’s voice was like cold iron. “It nearly was. If Miss Thorne hadn’t intervened, you’d be offering my eulogy by now. The Whitmore name would ensure the Bluemoon Pack’s extinction in less than three moons.”

Vaughn’s legs nearly buckled.

“Shouldn’t your pack be expressing gratitude to Miss Thorne instead?” Silas added.

“Y–yes, of course! We’ll arrange an official thank–you immediately!” Vaughn stammered.

But Silas was already walking away, eyes locked on one target.

Freya.

He stopped before her.

“Miss Thorne,” he said in that low, unreadable voice of his, “you do realize… if you hadn’t thrown yourself at me, my guards in the shadows would’ve dropped that beast with a silvershot in the next second.”

Freya blinked. Of course. A figure like Silas Whitmor–Alpha of the Ironclad Coalition–would never walk unguarded. His elite sentinels would’ve ended the threat instantly.

“So you’re saying I meddled?” she asked.

“No.” Silas’s gaze darkened with intrigue. “You saved me. And that merits repayment. The only question is—what do you want in return?”

A stir passed through the spectators. Some gaped. Some glared. Some looked at Freya with green–eyed envy.

She didn’t even blink. “Nothing.”

Silas took a step closer, shadowing over her. “But what if I insist?”

The weight of his presence was immense, a quiet storm pressing in.

Freya lifted her chin. She didn’t want entanglement. Not from this man. “Then donate a school. Somewhere that needs one. A hope school, maybe.”

Silas arched a brow. That, he hadn’t expected.

Still–his lips curled slightly. “Interesting choice.”

He watched her turn and walk away with Lana, his interest visibly piqued.

Behind them, Aurora stared daggers into Freya’s back, seething with fury beneath her bruises.

“She’s pretending to be noble,” she hissed through gritted teeth. “Freya only said that to impress Silas. If she really cared

about Caelum, she’d have used that chance to ask for funding for SilverTech Forgeworks!”

Caelum didn’t answer. But his gaze stayed on Freya, expression clouded with something unreadable.

Thoughts spinning. Allegiances shifting.

And the Runestone Grounds watched in silence, the wind whispering of debts, power, and the woman who had just changed

the game.