Ch. 211..215: A Warrior Luna's Awakening Chapter 211-215
Chapter 211
Freya’s POV
Some days later.
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The metal door of the detention chamber groaned open, and the sterile scent of silver-tinged disinfectant hit my nose. I stepped inside with Lawyer beside me, the air heavy with the weight of what I was about to do.
At last, I was face to face with him-the boy who had abducted Aurora.
But the sight before me jarred me to my core.
The youth seated on the other side of the reinforced glass looked nothing like the masked figure whose cold eyes had stared into the camera during the hostage broadcast. That wolf had radiated menace, raw hunger for vengeance.
This one looked…frail.
Thin shoulders sloped beneath the drab gray of prison garb. His face was fine-boned, delicate almost, like someone carved from porcelain. It was hard-almost impossible-to reconcile him with the image of the ruthless captor who had threatened a Bluemoon Beta’s daughter before half the packs of the realm.
He raised his head as I stepped into view. His gaze snapped to me instantly, sharp as a blade.
“You asked to see me?” I said, letting my voice carry the calm authority of my bloodline. My Stormveil wolf stirred under my skin, alert.
“Yes.” His voice was quiet, but it cut straight through the silence. His eyes fixed on me with the intensity of someone who had rehearsed this moment in his mind a thousand times. “I need to know why you’re helping me. I know lawyer Hawthorne is here because of you. Without you, no one would have fought to defend me.”
I tilted my head, studying him. Luca. That was his name. He had seen me once before-on the isles, and again at the orphanage. He would know that Silas’s pack lawyers rarely moved without his explicit interest.
He wasn’t wrong to suspect.
But what he didn’t know was that I had pushed Silas, demanded he allow Lawyer Hawthorne to intervene on Luca’s behalf.
“Because you need help,” I answered evenly.
His lips pressed into a line. Suspicion flickered in his eyes. “What do you want from me?”
The words were bitter, laced with the wary distrust of someone who had grown up watching adults barter kindness for favors. His scent recked faintly of fear and iron-fear not of me, but of being tricked.
1 folded my arms, suppressing a low hull from my wolf. “Nothing. I don’t want you to lose your future just because you went digging for the truth in the wrong way.”
His laugh was harsh, humorless. “You expect me to believe that? No one helps without wanting something
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in return.” His tone dripped with the cynicism of a boy who had seen charity twisted into spectacle. “Donations to orphans, rescue campaigns, all of it-it’s about reputation. About proving how benevolent they are in front of the packs. What makes you different?”
I almost smiled. His words carried the sting of raw truth, but I wasn’t here to debate politics.
“Then don’t believe me,” I said lightly. “Pretend I’m not kindhearted. Pretend one day I might call in a favor from you. Either way-it doesn’t matter until you’re free.”
I made to turn, but his voice rang out sharply.
“Wait!”
I stopped.
“If you’re really acting out of good will… then help me clear my father’s name.”
The words struck like a blade.
And then-before I could react-he dropped to his knees.
The metallic clang of bone on stone echoed in the visitation chamber, and my heart clenched.
“Stop,” I barked, sharper than I intended. The guards rushed forward, hauling him up. I lifted a hand. halting them with a flick of my wrist. My wolf bristled; my instincts hated the sight of a young wolf forced into submission this way.
“Don’t ever do that again,” I told him, my voice low. “You don’t need to kneel to me to be heard.”
He gave a hollow laugh. “Direct words mean nothing. I begged once before, and no one listened. Not when I shouted. Not when I begged on my knees. They only drove me out, called me mad.”
His hands curled into fists, knuckles white. His eyes burned with something I knew all too well-the fire of a soul that refused to let go of the truth.
“My father was innocent,” he rasped. “The fire wasn’t his fault.”
The chamber chilled around me. Memories I had buried deep flickered in my mind-the reports I had read, the whispers that circulated the packs.
Five years ago.
The fire that consumed lives and tore my family apart.
The fire that stole Eric from me.
I clenched my jaw. “Everyone knows the blaze was caused by a cigarette that wasn’t put out. The first casualty was your father, Vice-Captain James, found near the ignition point. All the evidence pointed-”
“No!” His voice cracked, and his wolf aura flared for a fleeting second before shackles of silver suppressed it. His desperation stung my senses. “He promised me. He had nodules in his lungs. The healers told him he wouldn’t survive long if he kept smoking. He swore to me he would quit. He wanted to live long enough to see me grow. He would never have broken that promise.”
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His words carried the iron weight of truth. His scent-sharp with grief, raw with sincerity-hit me like at
blow.
“Please,” he whispered, eyes glistening. “Don’t let him die branded a criminal. Don’t let his ghost rot under lies.”
My chest tightened. His plea tore through me, dredging up the wound I carried from that same fire-the one that had swallowed my brother whole.
Eric.
His face flashed before me, his laughter, his promise to always come back. But he hadn’t. He’d vanished into smoke and silence.
And maybe, just maybe, Luca was right. Maybe the fire hadn’t been born of negligence. Maybe it had been something else. Something darker.
If Vice-Captain James wasn’t guilty, then who had set the blaze?
And where did that leave my brother?
My wolf shifted uneasily, claws raking the inside of my chest. She hungered for the truth.
“Fine,” I said at last, my voice steadier than I felt. “I’ll dig. I’ll search. But you need to understand-after five years, evidence is ash. Even if there was a cover-up, those who orchestrated it may have buried every trail. I cannot promise you the justice you want.”
Luca’s eyes shimmered, a spark of hope breaking through his despair.
“That’s enough,” he breathed. “That someone as strong as you is willing to try… that’s enough.”
I exhaled slowly, my gaze drifting to the faint scars marring his wrists where silver shackles had rubbed skin raw.
Five years ago, the fire had stolen everything from both of us. His father. My brother.
Maybe fate had crossed our paths here for a reason.
And maybe the truth we unearthed would either set us free… or burn us alive all over again.
Chapter 212
Freya’s POV
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Tears streaked down Luca’s face, raw and unguarded. His voice broke as he whispered, “Thank you… thank you…”
It was the first time anyone had stood by him. The gratitude in his eyes cut through me like claws. My wolf stirred uneasily inside me, knowing too well the desperation of being left alone, unheard, unwanted.
When I finally stepped out of the visitation chamber, Silas was waiting in the corridor. His broad frame leaned against the wall, his aura restrained but humming faintly, enough to make the guards keep their distance.
“Did you get what you came for?” he asked.
I nodded. “He insists the fire wasn’t caused by his father. Vice-Captain James had nodules in his lungs-he promised Luca he would quit smoking. He believes with everything in him that his father didn’t die with a cigarette in his hand, and he doesn’t want him remembered as the one who started that blaze.”
Silas’s gaze sharpened, storm-grey eyes catching the fluorescent light. “So you want to chase the truth for him.”
“Yes,” I admitted. “But not only for him. I’ve always felt that fire is tied to Eric’s disappearance. I’ve been meaning to dig deeper for years. If I help Luca, maybe I’ll find the answers I’ve been searching for too.”
“I’ll help you.” Silas said without hesitation. His tone was iron, the kind that didn’t bend to refusal.
I studied him, then gave a small nod. “All right. The more eyes, the better. Evidence that old doesn’t surface easily.”
Before I could say more, another voice cut in from across the hall.
“Or maybe I should be the one to help, sister.”
I stiffened. Turning, I found Kade standing at the threshold, his dark hair shadowing sharp features. His wolf aura filled the room before his body even did, laced with challenge.
“Kade,” I said, surprised. “Why are you here? I thought we weren’t meeting until tomorrow. I promised to take you around the city.”
He shrugged. “Had nothing better to do. When I heard you were at the detention center, I decided to drop by. Whatever you’re chasing, I’ll help you.”
He hadn’t overheard everything, so I repeated what Luca told me. Kade listened in silence, his jaw tightening
“Five years is a long time,” he said finally. “The ashes are cold. Still… there might be traces left to follow. And if Aurora was beside Vice-Captain James when he collapsed, watching him burn without lifting a hand, then she might know something. Maybe something she’s not willing to say.”
My thoughts flickered. I had already considered that possibility. Aurora had been forced, live on the PackNet broadcast, to admit she had stood by, watching. Even if she knew more, the shame binding her
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tongue would keep her silent.
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“She won’t talk,” I murmured. “Not after being humiliated in front of the packs. She’d never admit to anything that might vindicate Luca’s father now.”
“Then we investigate her too,” Kade said flatly. “Every angle. If she holds even a fragment of the truth, we’ll tear it out.”
I nodded slowly. “That may be the only way.”
“Looks like you’re intent on protecting that boy.” Kade’s tone softened slightly. “I could find him a defense. lawyer. One better than what the Whitmors are offering.”
“Silas already assigned him one,” I replied.
Kade smirked. “Have you forgotten my grandfather’s lineage? I can bring him the best legal wolves in the Capital, the kind that leave Whitmor attorneys in the dust.”
Silas’s eyes narrowed, his aura flaring just enough to prickle against my skin. “The Whitmor legal corps are the best in the Capital.” His voice was smooth but carried a razor’s edge.
And just like that, the tension spiked. Two Alphas, circling, their dominance pressing heavy on the air. I rubbed my temples. Moon above, why could these two never breathe the same air without trying to claw at each other?
Later that day, I returned to Stormveil Pack’s Fifth Branch estate-the place I still called home. The old house was slated for demolition under city expansion laws, but every brick of it carried my family’s scent. Every corner was a memory.
The deed was in my name now. I knew I couldn’t stop the demolition, but I could at least salvage what remained. I wanted to gather my parents’ belongings, the pieces of Eric’s life, and hold onto them before the wrecking crews erased everything.
To my dismay, Silas and Kade insisted on coming along.
And so I found myself flanked by two Alphas-both stripped of their usual airs, sleeves rolled, hands dusty -as they packed boxes beside me like common movers. The image would have been amusing if not for the ache tightening my chest,
One by one, relics of my family disappeared into cardboard. The air grew thick with dust, the silence broken only by the creak of wood and the rustle of paper.
Then my eyes fell upon the photograph.
A family portrait. My father, Arthur Thorne, stern but proud; my mother, Myra, with her quiet strength; Eric beside me, grinning with reckless joy. And me-smaller, smiling, naïve.
The sight hollowed me. My throat burned. For a heartbeat, I was that girl again, before fire and lies shattered everything.
“Freya.” Silas’s voice brushed my car, low and concerned.
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I blinked, hastily tucking the frame into a box. “It’s nothing.” I lied, forcing my lips into a curve. “You’ve both been working hard. I’ll grab us some water from the shop down the road.”
Before either of them could argue, I slipped out. Better to leave than let them see the weakness clawing at
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Silas’s POV
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When Freya stepped out of the old Thorne estate’s packing room, Kade and I were left alone amidst the scattered boxes and the smell of aged wood. I could feel the tension crackle between us, as sharp as the scent of blood on the wind. Our eyes locked, wolf to wolf, instinctively assessing dominance and threat.
“She’s still the same,” Kade finally muttered, voice low but taunting. “Even when she’s hurting, she won’t let anyone see it. Didn’t you notice? She was staring at that family photo. Can’t you sense it?”
I pressed my lips together, saying nothing. He wasn’t wrong, but his familiarity with her-years of shared battles and mornings in the Iron Fang Recon Unit-gave him insight I could never claim. I had only met Freya months ago. My connection with her was strong, yes, but surface-deep compared to Kade’s history.
Kade’s smirk was lazy, mocking. “You’ve barely scratched the surface of her. You don’t know what she likes, what she tolerates, what she despises. I’ve known her long enough to see through all that. And soon… you might find yourself cast aside, Silas. She’ll tire of you if you don’t understand her.”
The words burned through me. My wolf growled low in my chest, the animal side recognizing the challenge. I hated that he had the history I didn’t. Hated that he had seen her vulnerabilities, walked beside her while I was still learning to read her auras, her moods, the subtle shifts in her scent when she was uneasy. Jealousy coiled around me like a steel trap.
I let the silence stretch, feeling the pulse of Kade’s wolf in the room, daring me to respond. And I did, sharp, cold, cutting:
“Then tell me, do you know how much she enjoys my body?”
Kade froze mid-breath. His eyes narrowed, a snarl threatening at the edges of his calm facade. “What did you just say?”
I leaned back slightly, letting the words hang in the air like the scent of blood on a fresh kill. “She likes me. And she likes my body. Our bond isn’t superficial-it’s primal, deep. She trusts me, and I trust her. When the time is right, I’ll ask her to be mine in every sense. Not just as a mate, but as my partner, my packmate for life.”
Kade’s jaw clenched. His wolf’s aura flared in response, hot, wild, furious. He stepped forward and grabbed my collar with an iron grip, pushing me back just enough to assert dominance. “What did you do to her?” His voice was a growl, human words barely containing his wolf’s anger.
I met his eyes evenly. “She chooses what she wants, Kade. Any closeness, any intimacy-we share it because she wants it. Not because I demand it, not because you or anyone else could dictate it. My body, my bond, my care… they’re hers as much as mine. And you… you’ll never understand what it’s like to be loved by her like this.”
His eyes burned into me, raw fire, and I felt the surge of his wolf, the heat, the untamed instincts ready to strike. But even as his anger flared, I stood firm. I wasn’t intimidated. Not by him, not by anyone.
“You-” he spat, voice cracking. I could hear the restraint in him, the effort it took not to lash out further. Just the thought of what Freya and I had shared-it ignited something uncontrollable in him. Even though I knew our bond was mine, that he had no claim, his instincts, his wolf, reacted the same way any wolf would to a rival staking claim to a mate.
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“Let me make one thing clear,” I said, cutting through the tension. “Freya and I will not be separated. Not by circumstance, not by your anger, not by anything. So don’t waste your strength thinking you can come
between us.”
Without warning, Kade’s fist shot forward. Reflexes honed from decades of hunting and fighting had me ready-but in that moment, Freya appeared in the doorway.
Her voice rang like a bell through the tension, sharp and commanding: “Stop!”
Kade froze, instinctively loosening his grip and stepping back. My check throbbed where his fist had grazed it, but I let it slide. Freya’s wolf aura surged around her, protective, bounding, and somehow both comforting and scolding. Her eyes, steel-blue and unyielding, met mine.
“What happened?” she demanded. She glanced between us, reading the heat, the aggression, the primal challenge that had just unfolded.
Kade hesitated. He couldn’t bring himself to admit the truth-that he had been stirred by jealousy, by the words I had spoken, by the recognition that Freya had chosen me. It was humiliating, and yet… inevitable.
I raised a hand, brushing off the pain from my cheek. “Nothing. Just… Kade had a moment. Let’s leave it at that.” My wolf sniffed him cautiously, noting his simmering frustration. He was sharp, quick, intelligent, dangerous—but he would learn, eventually, that Freya’s choice wasn’t negotiable.
She knelt beside me, pressing a cold bottle of water against my cheek. The relief was instant, the sting of heat and swelling softened by the chill. I allowed myself a small, wolfish exhale of gratitude.
Kade’s eyes didn’t leave me. His wolf simmered, restrained but barely. “You’re really going to be with him?” he said, voice quieter now, almost defeated, almost human.
“Yes,” Freya answered plainly, unwavering. “I like him. That’s enough.”
I could see it in Kade’s posture-his jealousy, his anger, his longing-all coiling into something that would take time to unwind. But Freya’s voice, her aura, her certainty… it had calmed the storm, at least for now.
She handed him a bottle of water too, her attempt to smooth over the tension tangible in the air. He took it silently, his jaw tight, wolf simmering beneath restraint.
Together, the three of us-Freya, Kade, and I-continued the work of packing her ancestral estate. Hours passed with wood scraping, papers rustling, memories packed and stacked carefully. The air held the faint musk of old wood, of dust, of the lingering scent of her family, and my wolf was constantly alert, protective.
Finally, when the last box was sealed, the arrangements made with the moving company, Freya led us out. The city beyond the estate awaited, but for a few hours, the remnants of her past had been respected, contained, and prepared for the future.
And I, Silas Whitmor, Alpha of Silverfang Pack, felt the steady pulse of my wolf’s satisfaction-not only for protecting her, but for claiming my place at her side, recognized and chosen, against any rival, against any
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Chapter 214
Freya’s POV
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I had excused myself to the restroom. The chill of the air-conditioning brushed against my skin, and I was only halfway through when a familiar scent made me freeze. Jocelyn Thorne.
I turned, and our eyes met. Her expression was a mixture of surprise and thinly veiled resentment. She hadn’t expected to see me here, not at this upscale restaurant. But the surprise quickly morphed into something darker-hatred simmering just beneath the surface.
Her face hardened as her wolf recognized the truth before her human mind could fully process it: I had risen while she had faltered. In the blink of a season, she had gone from the darling of the Stormveil Pack’s Metropolitan branch to someone scorned, her influence waning visibly within the family and the business.
The Whispering Hall of the Thorne family-our ancestral seat-might have kept its ancient prestige, but in the corporate corridors of the Ironhold Consortium, her authority was evaporating. Important meetings no longer included her, and even those who had once fawned over her now looked at her with. thinly disguised contempt. Some had even said outright, their words dripping venom:
“Jocelyn Thorne, you really think you’re still the family’s princess? It was Silas Whitmor behind you all along. Without him, what are you worth?”
I had seen the subtle way her pack members’ auras withdrew from her, the way their support had become lukewarm. But Jocelyn had refused to accept it. She had tried, desperately, to leverage her connections with the other young heirs of Ashbourne, the moneyed second-generation wolves, hoping to consolidate influence and salvage her projects. She wanted everyone to see that she still had power-even without Silas, she could still dominate, or so she thought.
Yet here we were, intersecting paths at a restaurant in the Capital, and the roles had inverted entirely. Her scent was sharp, strained with envy and defensiveness, while I moved calmly, wolf and human aligned, grounded in the strength of my own pack, my own choices, and my bond with Silas.
“You think that because Silas stands behind you, you can be reckless?” she hissed, stepping closer, her words cutting. “You really think you deserve him? You can fly a plane, you can handle yourself in combat -but so what? The Whitmore Pack doesn’t lack capable pilots or bodyguards.”
I leveled my gaze at her, cold, the scent of my wolf rising subtly to reinforce my presence. “So, you’ve turned Silas’ support for you into a weapon, a way to feel secure? Why do you need someone else to back you, Jocelyn? I am me. I have never relied on anyone to validate my worth. And as for deserving anyone…. if one must measure love or attachment by ‘deserve,’ then life itself is too sad a game to play.”
I could see her wolf bristle, claws of fury unsheathed. Her nostrils flared, and her chest rose and fell with a mix of indignation and panic. “You’re fooling yourself if you think it will last! One day, he’ll abandon you just like he would anyone else!”
I didn’t have time to respond, because Silas’ presence shifted the air like a pack alpha asserting dominance. His voice, deep and dangerous, cut across the corridor. “That day will never come, Jocelyn. And if you continue speaking to Freya like this, I promise you, you will have no place in Ashbourne, nowhere to hide.”
I could see her flinch, startled by the sudden appearance of Silas at my side, his aura coiling and protective. Kade lingered just behind him, his wolf simmering, tense, but controlled. Jocelyn’s fear was
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palpable now, though it quickly mutated into something darker-jealousy, sharp as the edge of a fang.
Why would Silas protect me so fiercely? She hadn’t given him anything-hadn’t sacrificed, hadn’t bled, hadn’t risked herself for him the way she claimed to have. And yet here he was, alpha and packmate, defending me against her venom. Her nostrils flared, teeth lightly bared in frustration.
“Silas,” she spat, stepping closer, defiance masking the underlying panic, “what good is Freya to you? She’s a divorced woman! What can she sacrifice for you? An eye? A limb? Nothing. She wouldn’t dare!”
Silas didn’t flinch. He leaned slightly forward, his wolf in his chest bristling, every line of his body radiating authority. “I don’t need her to sacrifice anything for me. And her being divorced? That’s nothing but a fortunate circumstance-it gave me the chance to be at her side. As for you…” His voice sharpened, cutting like a blade. “Your so-called sacrifice—the eye you flaunt-was never for me. It was because you had no other choice, no strength to resist, no wolf of your own to protect you.”
Her mouth opened, a protest forming, but I could hear the cracks in her confidence, her wolf’s fear and frustration mingling with her human arrogance. “That’s not true! Even if I could, I wouldn’t leave you behind!”
Silas’ amber eyes glinted with memory, wolf instinct coiling tightly around each word. “Would you have stayed? At the time, I begged you not to go. And yet you fled anyway, scrambling to escape. You abandoned me. Jocelyn. That is the difference between her and you.”
I watched silently, my own wolf rising in protective pride, sensing the pulse of tension, the history, the dominance and submission dynamics playing out. Jocelyn’s posture faltered, human pride wrestling with the truth her wolf could sense but her ego refused to admit.
“I was too young to understand, but my feelings were real!” she cried. “I loved you, Silas! I’ve loved you for years-how can Freya compare?”
Silas let out a low, resonant snort, wolf and human in perfect sync. “Love? You never understood what love means. When challenged, you abandoned. Freya never would. That is the difference.”
The subtle shift in the air was palpable as he turned his attention to me, amber eyes softening, the raw wolf energy behind them tempered by loyalty, by trust, by bond. I felt it wash over me like a tide- protective, possessive, unshakable.
He glanced at me once more, voice calmer but firm: “Let’s return to the table. The food is getting cold.”
Chapter 214
Freya’s POV
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I had excused myself to the restroom. The chill of the air-conditioning brushed against my skin, and I was only halfway through when a familiar scent made me freeze. Jocelyn Thorne.
I turned, and our eyes met. Her expression was a mixture of surprise and thinly veiled resentment. She hadn’t expected to see me here, not at this upscale restaurant. But the surprise quickly morphed into something darker-hatred simmering just beneath the surface.
Her face hardened as her wolf recognized the truth before her human mind could fully process it: I had risen while she had faltered. In the blink of a season, she had gone from the darling of the Stormveil Pack’s Metropolitan branch to someone scorned, her influence waning visibly within the family and the business.
The Whispering Hall of the Thorne family-our ancestral seat-might have kept its ancient prestige, but in the corporate corridors of the Ironhold Consortium, her authority was evaporating. Important meetings no longer included her, and even those who had once fawned over her now looked at her with. thinly disguised contempt. Some had even said outright, their words dripping venom:
“Jocelyn Thorne, you really think you’re still the family’s princess? It was Silas Whitmor behind you all along. Without him, what are you worth?”
I had seen the subtle way her pack members’ auras withdrew from her, the way their support had become lukewarm. But Jocelyn had refused to accept it. She had tried, desperately, to leverage her connections with the other young heirs of Ashbourne, the moneyed second-generation wolves, hoping to consolidate influence and salvage her projects. She wanted everyone to see that she still had power-even without Silas, she could still dominate, or so she thought.
Yet here we were, intersecting paths at a restaurant in the Capital, and the roles had inverted entirely. Her scent was sharp, strained with envy and defensiveness, while I moved calmly, wolf and human aligned, grounded in the strength of my own pack, my own choices, and my bond with Silas.
“You think that because Silas stands behind you, you can be reckless?” she hissed, stepping closer, her words cutting. “You really think you deserve him? You can fly a plane, you can handle yourself in combat -but so what? The Whitmore Pack doesn’t lack capable pilots or bodyguards.”
I leveled my gaze at her, cold, the scent of my wolf rising subtly to reinforce my presence. “So, you’ve turned Silas’ support for you into a weapon, a way to feel secure? Why do you need someone else to back you, Jocelyn? I am me. I have never relied on anyone to validate my worth. And as for deserving anyone…. if one must measure love or attachment by ‘deserve,’ then life itself is too sad a game to play.”
I could see her wolf bristle, claws of fury unsheathed. Her nostrils flared, and her chest rose and fell with a mix of indignation and panic. “You’re fooling yourself if you think it will last! One day, he’ll abandon you just like he would anyone else!”
I didn’t have time to respond, because Silas’ presence shifted the air like a pack alpha asserting dominance. His voice, deep and dangerous, cut across the corridor. “That day will never come, Jocelyn. And if you continue speaking to Freya like this, I promise you, you will have no place in Ashbourne, nowhere to hide.”
I could see her flinch, startled by the sudden appearance of Silas at my side, his aura coiling and protective. Kade lingered just behind him, his wolf simmering, tense, but controlled. Jocelyn’s fear was
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palpable now, though it quickly mutated into something darker-jealousy, sharp as the edge of a fang.
Why would Silas protect me so fiercely? She hadn’t given him anything-hadn’t sacrificed, hadn’t bled, hadn’t risked herself for him the way she claimed to have. And yet here he was, alpha and packmate, defending me against her venom. Her nostrils flared, teeth lightly bared in frustration.
“Silas,” she spat, stepping closer, defiance masking the underlying panic, “what good is Freya to you? She’s a divorced woman! What can she sacrifice for you? An eye? A limb? Nothing. She wouldn’t dare!”
Silas didn’t flinch. He leaned slightly forward, his wolf in his chest bristling, every line of his body radiating authority. “I don’t need her to sacrifice anything for me. And her being divorced? That’s nothing but a fortunate circumstance-it gave me the chance to be at her side. As for you…” His voice sharpened, cutting like a blade. “Your so-called sacrifice—the eye you flaunt-was never for me. It was because you had no other choice, no strength to resist, no wolf of your own to protect you.”
Her mouth opened, a protest forming, but I could hear the cracks in her confidence, her wolf’s fear and frustration mingling with her human arrogance. “That’s not true! Even if I could, I wouldn’t leave you behind!”
Silas’ amber eyes glinted with memory, wolf instinct coiling tightly around each word. “Would you have stayed? At the time, I begged you not to go. And yet you fled anyway, scrambling to escape. You abandoned me. Jocelyn. That is the difference between her and you.”
I watched silently, my own wolf rising in protective pride, sensing the pulse of tension, the history, the dominance and submission dynamics playing out. Jocelyn’s posture faltered, human pride wrestling with the truth her wolf could sense but her ego refused to admit.
“I was too young to understand, but my feelings were real!” she cried. “I loved you, Silas! I’ve loved you for years-how can Freya compare?”
Silas let out a low, resonant snort, wolf and human in perfect sync. “Love? You never understood what love means. When challenged, you abandoned. Freya never would. That is the difference.”
The subtle shift in the air was palpable as he turned his attention to me, amber eyes softening, the raw wolf energy behind them tempered by loyalty, by trust, by bond. I felt it wash over me like a tide- protective, possessive, unshakable.
He glanced at me once more, voice calmer but firm: “Let’s return to the table. The food is getting cold.”
Chapter 216
Freya’s POV
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I studied Silas carefully, taking in the fading redness along his cheek, the split at the corner of his lips, and, almost instinctively, I checked his teeth. Kade’s punch had not been gentle. The Iron Fang Recon Unit operative wasn’t someone who held back, and Silas had taken that full force.
“From now on,” I said, my voice soft but firm, “no matter who tries to hit you, don’t just stand there and take it. Dodge at least.”
Silas gave a small nod, a grin tugging at the corner of his bruised mouth. “Alright. But if it’s you who hits me…” He hesitated, then added, “I won’t dodge. I’ll let you hit me all you want.”
I laughed lightly, shaking my head. “And why would I hit you?”
He looked down, his dark lashes trembling as he tried to figure out how to say what he meant. “Maybe… because I’ve done something wrong?”
I arched an eyebrow. “Like what?”
His words faltered. How could he tell me this “like what” without sounding foolish? Without revealing all the things he carried in the shadows of his past?
Then, without warning, he leaned forward, his arms wrapping around my waist. I was standing while he was sitting, so his face naturally pressed against my abdomen. His voice was low, urgent, and tinged with vulnerability.
“If… if I ever do something wrong again, and you’re angry with me, you can hit me, scold me… do whatever you need. But please… please don’t ever leave me. Can you promise that?”
The desperation in his whisper tugged at my chest. His wolf, I knew, mirrored the intensity of his plea- every instinct, every sinew radiating a need for connection.
“If you know something is wrong, then don’t do it,” I said gently.
“But… what if it’s already done? Or… maybe I didn’t even realize it was wrong at the time?” His hands tightened around me slightly. “Before I met you, Freya, I wasn’t a good man. I didn’t care about anything -didn’t care if people lived or died… but…” He paused, his voice softer now. “I will be a better man, from now on. So… no matter what I did before, will you forgive me?”
I studied him, seeing the anxiety, the uncertainty, the rare flash of urgency in his gaze. It was like my answer was the axis on which his world turned.
And yet, why was he so concerned with whether I could forgive him for the past?
I pressed my lips together, considering. “As long as what you did didn’t betray the Pack, didn’t go against justice, didn’t harm innocents then yes. Even if you truly made mistakes, I can forgive you.”
I could see it then-the relief washing over him, subtle but palpable. Silas exhaled sharply and pulled me closer. “Thank you Freya Thank you for forgiving me.”
In the days that followed, I moved the belongings from our old estate to my apartment in the Capital.
1/3
1:16 pm P PPS.