Ch. 161..165: A Warrior Luna's Awakening Chapter 161-165
Chapter 161
Freya’s POV
C
.
+8 Pearls
I pressed my back to the crumbling stone wall in–game, fingers flying over my WolfComm screen as I strafed out and unleashed a rain of bullets at the enemy squad closing in.
“Go,” I barked into the comms. “Lana, take the others and finish the mission. I’ll hold them off.”
This wasn’t the first time I’d volunteered to take the heat. I had no active quest that needed clearing, and if I had to throw myself into a digital meat grinder to cover my team, so be it.
“Understood!” Lana’s voice crackled back, firm as always. She and the three veteran players slipped through a gap in the enemy’s line while I cut a path for them.
My thumbs slammed my avatar’s ultimate ability into play. Explosions ripped through the battlefield, sending half a dozen enemy characters sprawling. For a moment, I felt the rush–the same raw, reckless surge I’d once known running with the Iron Fang Recon Unit, shoulder to shoulder with wolves who trusted me with their lives.
But this wasn’t blood and steel. It was pixels. And yet my pulse still thundered as if I were truly back in a kill–zone.
Gunfire and grenades blanketed me in a storm of fire. I ducked behind cover, teeth grit, dragging out every second I could. My ammo counter blinked red, flashing its warning. Just a little longer. Just until they finish-
Then, Lana’s triumphant cry rang in my headset: “Objective secured!”
Relief cut through me, sharp and sweet. I let my avatar stand tall, bracing for the inevitable last exchange. At least their mission was done. I was ready to burn out in a blaze of glory.
But it didn’t happen.
The enemies that had cornered me–one by one, they fell. Precise headshots dropped them cleanly, no wasted bullets, no hesitation. My screen filled with kill notifications, not from me… but from him.
I froze, my wolf stirring uneasily in my chest.
“Freya!” Lana’s voice rose, incredulous. “You said Silas Whitmor was new at this? That was insane!”
“Too sharp,” one of our teammates added, awe heavy in his tone, “No way a rookie plays like that.”
“Is he even human?” another whispered.
I turned my head. Beside me on the couch, Silas sat calm and steady, his massive frame relaxed as if this was just another training drill. He wielded the rookie rifle I’d handed him earlier, but in his hands it had turned into something deadly. His in- game avatar approached mine, step by measured step, until his soldier stood over mine.
And then his voice–low, unyielding–filled the comms.
“Even in a game, I won’t watch you fall.”
My heart skipped a beat. No, it lunged. Wolf–sense and human instinct tangled together, pounding against my ribs until I had to suck in a breath just to ground myself.
When we finally logged off, the silence in the room felt strangely charged. I busied myself with my WolfComm, cheeks burning, forcing a casual tone.
“Well. That’s enough for tonight. It’s late–you should rest. I’ll head back to my room.”
Istood, but his hand caught mine. Firm. Warm. Unrelenting.
“Wait
I blinked down at him. “What is it?”
His storm–grey eyes caught mine. “Did you really go with Lana to a bar to chase males back then?” His voice was deceptively calm, but I felt the undercurrent, a growl held on a leash.
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Chapter 161
I nearly choked. Of all the things he could ask, it was that.
0
“That was Lana exaggerating,” I said quickly. My face heated despite myself.
His gaze sharpened. “So you never went? Never looked?”
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I hesitated, lips parting but no words coming out. Technically, yes–we’d gone. Lana had been heartbroken and dragged me along. She’d ordered drinks and even called in some of the bar’s so–called “famous charmers” for her own distraction. I’d sat through it, nursing my drink, my attention fixed on her misery, not the men.
But the truth lodged in
I my throat ***
His grip on my hand tightened fractionally. “Your silence tells me enough. You did go.” His tone dropped to a murmur, dangerous in its softness. “Did any of them catch your eye? Were they better than me?”
My wolf bristled at the sheer audacity, a mix of irritation and reluctant amusement twisting in my chest. “No! Of course not,” I said hotly. “That was years ago. And no one there came close.”
For a moment, he said nothing. Then his mouth curved, the barest hint of satisfaction tugging at his lips. “So you think I’m better looking than them?”
The words were plain, but in his voice they coiled with something primal, something that scraped against the edges of a claim he hadn’t spoken aloud.
I swallowed. “Yes.” It wasn’t even a lie.
His smile deepened, predator–smooth. “You really believe that?”
“Yes,” I admitted.
I could barely remember the faces of those men Lana had brought into that private booth. They’d been meaningless distractions in her heartbreak, blurred silhouettes in a haze of music and liquor. But Silas… he was here, real, carved into every one of my senses. His presence was inescapable, his scent–iron, smoke, and something dangerously intoxicating- curling into me.
His eyes didn’t leave mine. “Then that means you can see yourself with me, doesn’t it?”
I stared, breath catching. The question shouldn’t have made my pulse race, but it did. In the Capital, in every pack and every whispered corner of werewolf society, Silas Whitmor’s name carried weight. Ironclad Alpha. Son of the richest dynasty this side of the continent. And yet here he was, tethering me with a simple question that felt heavier than any battlefield command.
hemane
“Who,” I thought, faintly dazed, “would dare say no to him?”
He leaned back slightly on the couch, still holding my hand, his head tilted at an angle that exposed the clean, elegant line of his throat. The position was casual, but the effect was devastating. My wolf stirred again, restless and conflicted.
I had no answer for him. Or maybe the answer was already written in the way my heart thundered, betraying me.
Chapter 162
Freya’s POV
槛
+8 Pearls
“If I truly didn’t want you,” I said quietly, meeting his storm–grey eyes head–on, “why would I have agreed to be with you at all?”
Silas’s lips curved into something unreadable–half a smile, half a question. He leaned closer, his tall frame folding toward me until the heat of him pressed against my senses. One of his hands stayed wrapped around mine, unyielding, the other slid around my waist as if he feared I might bolt.
“Then…“” his voice dropped low, the timbre rougher than I’d ever heard from him. His lips parted, so close to my skin I could feel the whisper of his breath along my jaw. “If I do this… will you hold it against me?”
The brush of his mouth against the line of my jaw was so feather–light it barely counted as a touch. Yet every nerve in my body lit up like fire.
I froze, my wolf stiffening within me. I could feel the hunger in his gaze when I finally dared to meet it–raw, molten, almost desperate.
“Freya…” His voice was hoarse now, rough silk edged with gravel. “I want to kiss you.”
My heart slammed hard against my ribs. I blinked at him, once, twice. We were already bound together by choice, though not by mate–bond. And it wasn’t as if I hadn’t felt the pull toward him before–the subtle way his presence dragged my gaze, the way his scent coiled around me like smoke and steel until my wolf bristled in restless awareness.
A kiss didn’t seem impossible. It seemed inevitable.
And yet…
wwwwww my
“If you don’t want it,” he whispered, his forehead nearly brushing mine now, “you can push me away. I won’t force you.” The words, though spoken in that commanding Alpha’s voice of his, broke strangely soft–like a plea wrapped in power.
His lips trailed upward, tracing the sharp edge of my jaw, closer and closer to my mouth, I didn’t push him. My body was taut as a bowstring, but I didn’t move away.
I could feel the tremor in his hand at my waist, just the faintest quiver. Was he actually nervous? Silas nervous because of a
kiss?
Then his lips finally met mine.
It wasn’t fierce, or claiming, or anything like the hunger I’d expected from him. It was soft. Careful. A ghost of a kiss, reverent in its restraint–as if the moment he pressed too hard he would shatter
g sacred.
And just when I thought that was all–when he began to draw back–my hand shot up. yanked him forward, crushing the faint distance between us.
fistin
in the front of his shirt. I
“Open your mouth,” I demanded, wolf rising with sudden boldness.
For a heartbeat, he just stared at me, startled. Then, obediently, he did as I ordered.
This time, I kissed him. No hesitation. No trembling restraint. I claimed his lips with mine, tasting him fully, showing him that he wasn’t the only one allowed to hunger.
When we finally broke apart, his breath came uneven, his ears tinged red. He stared expected me to fight fire with fire. “Why… why would you do that?”
at
me, wide–eyed, as if he hadn’t
“Because you’re my chosen mate.” I answered simply. The word slipped free before I could stop it, and though technically we hadn’t completed the bond, it felt truer than anything else. “And because I wanted to kiss you. Is that reason enough?”
His eyes blazed, silver and storm, the wolf behind them flashing wild, Slowly, a smile spread across his face–sharp and devastating. “More than enough.”
The sweetness in my chest was dangerous, intoxicating, but I forced myself to step back. “Now,” I added firmly, trying to steady my voice, “will you let me go? I do need to sleep.”
10:09 AM PP.
Chapter 162
He hesitated, reluctant, but finally released my waist. “Go, then,” he murmured.
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I slipped out of his grasp and retreated down the hall to my own room. When the door closed behind me, I leaned against it, my pulse still racing. I could almost still feel the warmth of his lips against mine.
On the other side of the walls, I imagined him sitting alone in that guest suite, fingers brushing his mouth as if reliving the moment. And I wasn’t wrong. Somewhere across the packhouse, I could almost hear his low murmur carried by instinctual bond–sense, though faint and fragmented:
Freya… what have you done to me? You gave me a taste, and now I’ll crave more.
I had barely washed my face and brushed my teeth when my WolfComm chimed with Lana’s name.
“Freya!” she burst out the moment I answered. “Tell me you’re not still with Alpha Silas.”
I blinked at the screen. “No. I’m in my own room, about to sleep.”
Her sigh of relief gusted through the speaker. “Good. But you are seriously telling me you’re with him now? Officially?”
“Yes.” I nodded, firm. “We’re together.”
Her
eyes widened. “He didn’t threaten you, did he? Force you?”
“No,” I said firmly. “It was my choice.”
face.
Lana still looked like she was seeing a ghost. “Freya, do you understand what you’ve done? Silas Whitmor is-” She waved her hands in exasperation. “He looks like sin carved into flesh. Sure. But you? You’ve never been the type to fall for a pretty What on earth do you see in him?”
I thought about it, long and hard. Finally, I said simply, “He’s… not what everyone thinks. He’s more.”
www.
Her jaw dropped. “That almost sounded like sarcasm. In The Capital, there are a hundred rumors about him, and not one of them says he’s decent.”
wwwwwww
A wry smile touched my lips. “Sometimes the ones you expect to be nobl are wolves hiding knives. And sometimes the ones painted as villains… carry a goodness you don’t notice until it’s aimed at you.”
“So,” she drawled, her expression softening into a smirk, “what you’re telling me is you’ve actually seen that goodness? “He’s not what I imagined. And yes,” I admitted, maybe part of this started as impulse. But I don’t regret it.”
Her teasing faded into quiet sincerity. “Then I hope he proves himself worthy of you, Freya. Truly
“Thank you.” My voice was steady, but inside, my wolf stirred uneasily. Hope and fear tangled like thorn and rose.
The future was a path hone of us could see clearly. I didn’t know where mine with Silas would lead.
But for the first time in years, I wasn’t afraid to walk it.
Chapter 163
+8 Pearls
Third Person’s POV
Aurora jolted awake in the dead of night, her breath ragged, her body slick with cold sweat. The shadows seemed to crawl closer, pressing against her, echoing the nightmare that had just strangled her sleep.
“You dreamed again?” Caelum’s low voice came from the doorway. The Silverfang Alpha stepped in, his tall frame carrying both command and quiet concern. Ever since their return from the Stormveil negotiations, he had noticed the change in Aurora–the way her shoulders stiffened, the haunted look in her eyes, the nights broken by muffled cries.
Aurora swallowed, forcing herself upright. “Mm,” she admitted, her tone faint, her hair clinging damply to her skin.
Caelum’s gaze softened. “It’s because of what Freya did, isn’t it? The way she struck you down in front of everyone?” His voice carried that Alpha steadiness, but underneath lay genuine worry. “If the memory won’t release you, perhaps you should speak to a healer… someone skilled in untangling the mind. It would keep scars from setting too deep.”
Aurora gave a small nod, exhaling slowly. “Perhaps.” She knew better, though. It wasn’t Freya’s sudden flare of dominance that haunted her. It was the WolfComm message that had appeared that same night–the one that called her murderer. The letters still burned in her mind, as though branded into her very soul.
Who had sent
it?
She had tried to trace the number, clawing at every lead, but it was a phantom–an unrooted signal, discarded and gone. Whoever had done this knew how to cover their tracks.
Her chest tightened, and her pulse hammered louder in her ears.
الله الله الله الا الله الله الله الله الله الله
Caelum moved closer, a cloth in hand, gently wiping the sweat from her brow. “You’re trembling. I’ll fetch you water. Stay here, Aurora.”
She nodded again, watching as he turned to leave. But as the door closed behind him, his WolfComm chimed sharply. Aurora caught the sudden flicker in his face–his features tightening, his eyes shadowing–as he glanced at the caller ID. Without hesitation, he stepped out into the hall and answered.
Something in his posture made Aurora’s gut coil. In all the time she had known him, Caelum had never once avoided taking
a call in front of her.
Sliding from the bed, she padded silently to the doorway, pressing herself against the stone wall.
“… It’s me,” Caelum’s deep timbre carried through the stillness. “You’ve found something? The one who pulled me from the river eight years ago–who it was?”
Aurora froze. Her blood ran cold.
So that was it.
Caelum was still searching. Still digging for the truth of that night. The night he had nearly drowned.
He had always sworn he trusted her–that it had been her, Aurora of the Bluemoon Pack, who had saved him. He had built their bond on that foundation, elevating her, giving her a place at his side. And yet, secretly, he was still investigating. Still doubting.
Her hands trembled. If he discovered the truth–that it had not been her, but Freya Thorne–everything she had fought for would crumble.
Her place at Caelum’s side. Her chance to rise as Alpha’s mate. Even her carefully woven path to one day become Luna of the Silverfang Pack. All of it would vanish like ash in the wind.
could
No. She could not allow that truth to surface.
Her mind spun, claws of panic raking at her chest. And then, in a rush of instinct, she staggered forward, letting herself fall hard against the floorboards. Pain shot up her leg and she let out a sharp cry.
Inside the hall, Caelum’s voice cut off mid–sentence. The call ended abruptly, footsteps pounding back toward her. He burst into the chamber, his wolf eyes flaring at the sight of her collapsed form,
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Chapter 163
“Aurora! What happened?” He knelt beside her immediately, his hands strong but careful as they slid beneath her.
+8 Pearls
“I… I felt my chest tighten. I tried to come find you… but I stumbled.” Her voice trembled, laced with just the right measure of vulnerability. Her lips pressed into a pained smile. “My foot… it hurts, Caelum. Will you… carry me back?”
Without hesitation, he lifted her effortlessly, cradling her against him. The warmth of his aura enveloped her as he returned her to the bed.
“I should still bring you that water,” he said softly, beginning to rise.
But her arms shot up, locking around his neck. “Don’t go. Please.”
Caelum stiffened, caught between instinct and hesitation. In his mind, Aurora had always been sharp–edged, resilient, commanding in her own right. But here, now, she trembled like a fragile doe, her lips trembling as she bit them, her eyes shimmering with a fear he had never seen in her before.
“I’ll only be gone a moment,” he murmured, voice gentling, almost coaxing.
Her reply was not words but action. Aurora’s lips pressed to his, sudden and desperate.
Caelum froze, his body locking beneath the unexpected weight of the kiss. Since arriving in Ashbourne, they had shared a roof, but never a bed. Though she had hinted before–brushed against him, lingered in his presence–he had resisted, something always holding him back.
And that something had a name.
Freya.
Even now, even with Aurora’s lips moving against his, her scent flooding his senses, a ghost rose unbidden in his mind- Freya’s eyes, her wolf aura blazing, her defiance cutting sharper than a blade. It was maddening, like a thorn lodged too deep. to pull free.
Aurora leaned closer, her gown slipping down her shoulder, baring pale skin. His breath caught, and he turned his head away sharply. But she pressed tighter, her wolf aura laced with the scent of need.
“It’s her fauit,” Aurora whispered, voice breaking. “Freya. She’s poisoned everything. She won’t let me be. Every night I dream of her humiliation, her rage. You divorced her, but she’ll never forgive me. Don’t leave me, Caelum. Stay. Just tonight.”
Guilt washed through him. He had brought this upon her his failed marriage, his messy ties with Freya, the storm that seemed to follow him everywhere. Aurora’s anguish was real, he thought. Perhaps she was right.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice low. “Because of my past with Freya, you’ve suffered
Aurora shook her head fiercely, her eyes shimmering. “I don’t care. As long as you’re mine, I can endure anything. Even her wrath.” She pressed her lips to his again, more insistent this time. “From the moment I pulled you from the river that night… I wanted you. But only now do I understand how deep it runs, Don’t make me wait any longer, Caelum.”
He hesitated, torn between the pull of her body and the phantom memory of another woman.
And behind it all, the unspoken truth gnawed at the edges of his mind: the call he had ended too quickly, the truth left dangling on the other end of the line.
The truth that Aurora feared more than anything.
Chapter 164
Third Person’s POV
@
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“Caelum, if you still cannot forget Freya, it doesn’t matter. I can wait. Tonight, pretend I never said a word. Go back to your room, don’t worry about me.”
Her words struck a chord, tugging at places inside him he thought long buried.
“No,” Caelum growled, his tone rough and urgent. “How could I ever not care about you? And besides–Freya and I have already gone through the Lunar Severance Phase. Whatever bond we had, it’s finished. I will not feel anything more for her.”
Aurora’s lips curved into the faintest smile. In the flicker of candlelight, it was almost triumphant. Her arms wrapped around his broad frame, pressing her warmth into him. This time, Caelum did not push her away.
Even though just hours earlier, on the call, he hadn’t had the chance to ask—who had truly saved him years ago? His instincts whispered that it must have been Aurora. Yes, it had to be. The thought settled inside him like a drug.
He had ordered his people to dig into the past, to verify what he already wanted to believe. But deep down, he knew—it wasn’t Freya. It could never be Freya. He wouldn’t let her shadow touch him again.
And so, he surrendered.
That night, Caelum let himself sink into Aurora’s embrace, into the haze she wove around him. When it was over, his wolf /exhausted, he drifted into a deep, oblivious sleep.
Aurora, however, did not.
Long after his steady breaths filled the chamber, she stirred. Slipping free of his arms, she moved with practiced silence. Her hand dipped into the pocket of his discarded jacket. Her fingers brushed against the smooth surface of his WolfComm device.
With a subtle swipe, she unlocked it. He had never told her the code, but Caelum had never shielded it from her either. She had seen enough times to remember.
Her eyes gleamed as she scrolled through the recent call log. There it was–the last number, the voice that had unsettled him before he turned to her.
Aurora memorized the digits, then placed the WolfComm back exactly where she found it. No evidence. No suspicion. Only quiet control.
Slipping beneath the furs again, she lay beside the slumbering Alpha, studying his sharp jaw, the faint crease still etched
between his brows.
“Caelum,” she whispered, her voice a mixture of tenderness and steel. “Don’t blame me. Wolves who are selfless get torn apart. Only the selfish survive.”
Yes. She would survive. She would thrive. Whatever it took.
The next morning, far from the Silverfang stronghold, dawn broke over Ashbourne. Freya Whitmor residence, her eyes immediately catching on Silas.
Bepped into the sunlit hall of the
The Alpha of the Ironclad Coalition did not look like his usual composed self. His golden shadows, his aura sharp but frayed at the edges.
“You didn’t sleep well?” Freya asked, her brow knitting slightly.
eyes
do were rimmed with faint
“A little, Silas admitted, his voice clipped He did not add that he had spent most of the night restless, consumed by the memory of her lips against his. That single kiss had set his blood on fire, his wolf prowling under his skin until he was forced to stand beneath cold showers again and again, fighting the heat clawing through him.
“Then rest in the car later,” Freya said, her tone soft but firm. “The drive to the Whitmor company branch in Ashbourne will take at least thirty minutes.”
“Alright.” The great Alpha of the Ironclad Coalition, the man whose name struck fear and respect across territories, lowered his head and agreed with quiet obedience.
10:09 AM
Chapter 164
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Wren, his secretary seated nearby, had grown almost numb to this side of his Alpha. At first, the sight of the cold and imperious Silas softening under Freya’s presence had stunned him. Now, he simply accepted it.
Who could have imagined? The Alpha feared by nations, a man as unyielding as iron, could look so much like a loyal hound
in front of one woman.
He still remembered the day he first learned of their relationship. He’d thought lightning had cracked his skull. The shock was unforgettable. Since then, every tender glance, every softened word Silas gave Freya–Wren simply forced himself to remain composed, even as it felt like witnessing the impossible.
After breakfast, Silas and Freya boarded the armored vehicle.
“Rest for a bit, Freya told him gently.
“Can I lean against you?” Silas asked.
“Yes,” she said without hesitation.
med
Slowly, his body leaned toward her, but rather than immediately resting on her shoulder, he angled his head upward, his piercing gaze fixed on her.
“What is it?” Freya asked, puzzled by his hesitation.
“You.. don’t want to kiss me?” His voice was low, quiet, yet it carried the weight of a wolf’s yearning.
Freya’s lips parted in shock.
Wren, hands gripping the steering wheel, nearly swerved. The words of his Alpha, the Ironclad’s unshakable leader, were so absurdly soft–so human–that his composure cracked.
Freya hissed under her breath, “Your Beta is right there!”
In the rearview mirror, Wren caught his Alpha’s deathly glare and nearly shrank in his seat.
“I only drive,” Wren said hastily, his voice trembling. “I see nothing, I hear nothing.”
“Do you want it?” Silas whispered again, his tone husky, dangerous in its need. Or was he the only one haunted by last night’s kiss, restless and insatiable?
The image was devastating–an Alpha of his stature, a man born to dominate, reduced to this vulnerable longing. His striking face, his wolf aura simmering just beneath his skin, all wrapped around those simple words: Do you want me?
Freya’s heart clenched. How could she deny him when he looked
at her like that?”
he was hers?
Her eyes flicked to the front, where Wren sat stiff as stone. Then back to Silas, who seemed ready to break.
She sighed softly. “Fine. You’re my mate, after all. I’ll indulge you.”
Her fingers brushed his strong jaw, tilting his face toward her. Then her lips pressed against his, a kiss that silenced his wolf and set fire through her veins.
His scent enveloped her–powerful, intoxicating, wholly male. Despite his terrifying reputation, in this moment he yielded completely, letting her take control, letting her kiss him as though he belonged entirely to her.
And he did.
Chapter 165
Silas‘ POV
“Freya,” I murmured, “if you ever want to kiss me again, you know you don’t have to ask.”
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Her sigh was soft, amused, teasing. I could feel her wolf’s pulse against mine–curious, wary, but playful. Outside, the streets of Ashbourne blurred past, the city waking, unaware of the storms that prowled its shadows. Our trip here was supposed to be simple: deliver my parents‘ ashes to the Legion’s Hall of Martyrs, perform the ceremonial rites, and fulfill the military escort obligations.
Yet, as always, the universe seemed intent on testing me.
The car descended into the underground garage of Whitmore Ashbourne. I allowed my eyes to close for a moment, but my wolf stayed alert. And then—the tires screeched. A violent jolt threw me upright. My senses screamed before my human mind could catch up.
“Collision–another vehicle!” Wren, muttered as he opened the door. I barely caught the flicker of movement from the corner of my vision—a white car, positioned to force us into a corner.
Instinct took over, My claws flexed beneath my gloves; my wolf coiled, ready to spring. Freya shifted slightly, sensing it too, though she didn’t need me to tell her anything. Her wolf flared, eyes bright.
Then I saw it–Wren stiffened unnaturally, back to me. My teeth clenched. A dart, a subtle glint–I caught the reflection of needle being injected into his neck. He crumpled, consciousness stolen in an instant. My wolf snarled, rage and warning fused into a single vibration that rolled down my spine.
a
Freya reacted before I could. Agile, precise, lethal. She rolled from the vehicle, claws flexed, wolf flaring in the primal instinct of survival. The Rogue female who emerged from the white car–predator scent heavy, wolf–stench of violence thick–was trained, calculating, dangerous.
I followed instinctively, not to interfere but to dominate the field. My wolf surged, powerful, aware of every movement, every breath, every shift of air.
Freya struck first. The Rogue barely had time to react before her claws ripped through leather, opening the first crimson streak. The Rogue hissed, snapping teeth. My wolf’s growl echoed, low and possessive, warning the intruder that she was mine to protect.
The first exchange was a blur of motion–slashing claws, snapping jaws, and primal yelps. Freya kicked against the half–open car door, using leverage to knock the Rogue off balance. Blood streaked her arm, bright and urgent, but her focus never wavered. Every strike precise, every move calculated to end the fight before it escalated further.
! intercepted a second Rogue attempting to flank her, claws tearing through shoulder and side. The Rogue yelped and fell back, but my eyes never left Freya. My wolf was coiled around her, protective, alert, ready to erupt at the slightest threat.
She dove toward the main attacker, rolling and twisting, the grace of her wolf–essence in every motion. The Rogue sneak attack, but Freya was faster–flipping, slashing, striking with teeth and claws. Her arm bled freely, the crimson marking her strength, her resilience.
I stepped in only when she needed an opening, biting at a Rogue’s flank to ensure he wouldn’t rise again. Freya’s wolf flared beside mine, synchrony perfect, a dance of claws and instinct. Her breathing was sharp, shallow, but eyes alight with the fire
of battle.
Finally, the female Rogue faltered. I lunged, powerful and controlled, pinning her to the concrete. Teeth sank into shoulder. claws held her fast. My wolf’s growl filled the parking garage–a deep, resonant warning that none could ignore.
“End it!” My voice, low and commanding, reverberated through the chaos. The Rogue froze. Freya’s eyes flicked to me, relief washing over the primal tension.
I released her shoulder but kept the Rogue pinned, eyes scanning, wolf flaring. She had bled on her sleeve; crimson streaks vivid, alive. “You hurt yourself?” I asked, concern laced with frustration.