Ch. 241..245: A Warrior Luna's Awakening Chapter 241-245
Chapter 241
Freya’s POV
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Silas’s voice brushed against my ears like a low growl, warm and careful. “Are you hurting?”
still
I blinked at him, realizing how clear my skin felt–no sticky traces, no discomfort. He’d washed me, tended to me while I slept so soundly I hadn’t stirred once. That realization alone startled me. I, who never truly lowered my guard, who’d survived in the shadows of Stormveil’s politics, had slept like a pup safe in its den. Because he was there.
“It’s not pain, just… sore,” I murmured.
His silver–grey eyes darkened with worry. “Was I too rough last night? You didn’t enjoy it? I—I swear I’ll do better. It was my first time too. Next time, I’ll—”
Heat flooded my face. “No, Silas. You were… good.” More than good. His touches had been clumsy but earnest, every move layered with hunger and reverence that left me trembling. And every time I thought we were finished, his desire surged again, impossible to resist. I’d told myself to push him away, to demand rest, but then I saw that desperate fire in his gaze- Alpha fire–and I cayed. Again and again.
My cheeks burned hotter. “You just… didn’t seem to have enough.”
The corners of his lips curved faintly, almost wolfish.
“But,” I continued, voice softer, “I realized something. I must trust you more than I thought.”
His brows rose.
“I slept straight through the night while you bathed me, Silas. Normally, I would’ve woken at the slightest touch. But with you…” My voice faltered. “I felt safe.”
That earned me a rare, unguarded smile from him, tender enough to tighten my chest. “Let me dress you,” he offered.
I shot upright, horrified. “No! I can do it myself.”
“You’re still sore. Let me. I want to take care of you.”
The words made my face blaze. “Just… hand me my clothes.”
He obeyed without protest, pulling garments from the wardrobe–every piece, even the
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intimate ones–his movements so steady, so composed. My pulse quickened at his calmness. Sometimes he was all nervous edges, uncertain of my heart. Other times, he carried himself like the true Alpha he was, unshaken and commanding.
“Turn around,” I demanded.
He did, obedient as a wolf awaiting its Luna’s command. Only then did I slip from beneath the sheets and tug on my clothes, though my body protested every stretch. Spirits, I felt like I’d been in a full Iron Fang training run. My thighs burned. My back throbbed. And yet, beneath the ache, something inside me whispered of the next time.
Next time.
My fingers stilled. Was I really anticipating more nights like last? With him? The thought didn’t feel terrifying. It felt… natural. As though fate itself had intended this.
“All done,” I called softly.
When I reached for my shoes, Silas suddenly knelt before me, taking them into his large hands. He slid them onto my feet with such gentleness it made my throat close.
“I can-
99
“I know you can,” he cut in, lifting his gaze to mine. “You’re not the kind of woman who needs anyone to do things for her. You’re strong, Freya. You always will be. But let me do this, just this. It’s something I want to give you. Don’t push it away.”
My heart clenched. He had no idea how dangerous it was to say things like that to me, to peel away my walls with tenderness. If I let myself rely on him too much, if I gave him all of me, would I survive it if he ever walked away?
But for once, I stayed quiet and let him slip the shoes onto my feet.
By the time we reached the dining room, the scent of something warm drifted to me. Silas moved quickly, carrying bowls from the kitchen. “Sit. I’ll bring breakfast.”
“Breakfast?” I blinked.
“Porridge. I made it myself.” His tone was half–proud, half–anxious. “If it’s not to your taste, tell me what you like. I’ll learn.”
I stared at him, imagining this Alpha–the head of the Whitmor line, the Ironclad Coalition’s heir–in an apron at a hearth. “Did you… wear an apron?”
He frowned. “No. Should I have?”
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A pang of disappointment slipped out before I could stop it. “I just wondered what you’d look
like in one.”
That made him chuckle. “If you want to see me in an apron, Freya, I’ll wear one. Next time I cook for you, I’ll make sure of it.”
My hand shot out to stop him as he started toward the kitchen. “No need. I was joking.”
“I wasn’t,” he murmured, setting the steaming bowl in front of me. “Next time, you’ll see.”
The porridge was simple, but warm and faintly sweet. As I tasted it, a thought struck me- dangerous in its comfort. Perhaps living like this, with him by my side, wasn’t something to fear. Maybe it was what I’d been searching for all along.
–
Later that afternoon, when I stepped into the offices of SkyVex Armaments, I was immediately ambushed by Lana. Her grin was sly, her Beta aura buzzing with mischief.
“Well?” she demanded, practically bouncing at my side. “Spill it, Freya. Did you finally devour Silas last night?”
I nearly choked.
Spirits help me–Lana would never let me live this down.
Chapter 242
Third Person’s POV
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Freya didn’t flinch. Her lips curved faintly as she answered with disarming bluntness, “I did.”
Lana’s eyes widened. “Moon above! And here I thought you’d hold out until the end of days. What made you change your mind?”
Freya’s only reply was a pointed roll of her eyes, but that alone told Lana more than words.
Unfazed, the other woman pressed on. “Anyway, the show last night ended early. How about we go see the rest of it another time?”
“Find someone else,” Freya countered smoothly. “If I go with you again, the performance might stop halfway–again.”
For a moment Lana blinked, not comprehending. Then the realization struck her, and she let out a scandalized laugh. “No way! That interruption was because of Silas?”
“Mm,” Freya confirmed with a calmness that only made Lana gape further.
“Spirits. That’s so like him–Ironclad Alpha makes a move, and the world rearranges itself. No halfway measures with that male,” Lana muttered, shaking her head. “Fine, I’ll drag someone else with me.”
Her expression softened, though, as she tilted her head. “What about you and Victor? Did you two settle things?”
“Settled,” Lana said with forced brightness. “I said what needed to be said, and we parted. No lingering ties, no regrets.”
Freya studied her for a moment. “You and he…”
“Nothing left,” Lana cut her off with a dismissive wave, patting her shoulder firmly. “I can let go of what doesn’t serve me. Don’t worry.”
Satisfied, Freya inclined her head. “That’s good.”
But Lana was never one to linger on her own wounds. Her eyes lit with fresh gossip, her voice dropping conspiratorially. “By the way, word just came in this morning–Ironhold Consortium is pulling its backing from SilverTech Forgeworks. Caelum is probably pacing his Alpha office like a wolf in a trap right now. Without fresh investment, he’ll have no choice but to sell the company cheap.”
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Freya’s gaze cooled, though her tone remained even. “SilverTech was never worth much.”
“Exactly!” Lana snorted. “These flashy tech ventures live or die by the brains they house, not the steel and stone. And Caelum still doesn’t grasp why he succeeded in the first place. He thought it was all his genius, when it was your patents, your work. He tried to steal them, but could never wield them.”
A small smile tugged at Freya’s lips. “He was never going to use them. Not truly.”
“And divorcing you?” Lana’s laugh was sharp. “That was his greatest blunder. Mark my words, Freya–soon he’ll have nothing left but ashes.”
“Perhaps,” Freya said softly, her golden eyes flashing with an Alpha’s certainty. “But leaving him? That was my salvation.”
Lana leaned back, satisfied. Both women could already envision Caelum’s downfall—the Silverfang Alpha, once untouchable, stripped to nothing.
Across the city, in the steel–and–glass lair of SilverTech Forgeworks, Caelum Grafton’s control finally cracked. The WolfComm device in his hand went sailing across the office, shattering against the wall with a vicious crack. His chest heaved with rage.
How could this happen? He had begged–lowered himself in ways no Alpha should—but the investors were resolute. The Ironhold Consortium was out. They knew pulling their claws from his company would gut it, and still they walked away. No negotiation. No mercy.
“Caelum!” Aurora burst into the room, narrowly dodging the shattered device on the floor. The Bluemoon Beta’s daughter looked alarmed. “What happened?”
He forced his fury down, though his voice was still rough. “Nothing you need to worry about. Why are you here?”
Aurora stepped closer, her eyes earnest. “I know someone who can arrange a private credit Joan. The rates are higher than the banks, but with your company needing funds now, this could save you. Once Forgeworks rebounds, you can repay it easily.”
“Credit loan?” His brows furrowed. Such lenders demanded stable operations and steady flows of gold. Since Freya’s departure, SilverTech’s fortunes had plummeted. Stock after stock had tumbled, investors whispered of collapse, and his once–feared name drew little but ridicule, What bank would back a dying Alpha’s venture?
Aurora pressed on. “It’s not impossible. I spoke of you already. They’re willing to lend fifty
million.”
His eyes widened. “Truly? Not… one of those private sharks?”
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“It isn’t illegal,” Aurora hurried to assure. “The annual interest is steep, yes, but still within the legal limit–no more than thirty–six percent.”
Caelum’s stomach sank. That rate was near ruinous, but the desperation clawing at his chest left him cornered. “Too high. I should—”
“Caelum,” Aurora cut him off, voice urgent, “my uncle is preparing to launch his own drone project. Take this money, keep SilverTech alive long enough to negotiate with him. Once he invests, you’ll have all the capital you need to pay back the loan. And in two months, your shares unfreeze. If you sell part of them, you could raise two hundred million easily. Enough to cover everything.”
Her words made sense. More than sense–they offered him the only path left. Slowly, reluctantly, he nodded. “Fine. I’ll take it.”
Relief broke over her face, followed by a bright, satisfied smile. “I’ll tell them at once.”
She turned, slipping her WolfComm device from her pocket, and her fingers moved swiftly across the screen. A message flashed away, not to the lender but to another number altogether. Forty–nine point five million, three days from now.
Caelum never noticed. He was already planning which limbs of his empire he would cut away, which wolves he would sacrifice, all to keep the illusion of power alive a little longer.
Elsewhere, a call came through to Freya from the Iron Fang division.
“Freya Thorne,” the voice on the other end rumbled. “We’ve recovered the drone your brother Eric left behind. The data core survived better than we expected. The SD module–our techs have restored a portion. You should come. See it for yourself.”
Her breath caught. Eric’s legacy, thought lost to war and betrayal, was stirring again.
Chapter 243
Freya’s POV
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I rushed into the military compound, my heart hammering like a drum inside my chest.
The Iron Fang Recon Unit had summoned me here. My legs carried me faster than I realized, as though my wolf itself pushed me forward.
Five years.
Five years since my brother Eric vanished into the flames at the border. Five years since I last heard his voice.
And now, I stood in front of the screens, clutching the edge of the desk as though it was the only thing keeping me upright.
The recovered SD card from Eric’s drone flickered to life. Static. Distorted sound. Then–his
voice.
My brother’s voice.
The moment it reached my ears, hot tears burst from my eyes, streaming down unchecked. My knees nearly gave out. The ache that had hollowed me for half a decade suddenly came alive, sharp and raw, as if no time had passed at all.
“Eric…” I whispered, choking on the sound of his name.
His voice was calm, professional, steady–the way it always was when he reported during missions. He had been part of the Iron Fang Recon Unit, a shadow in hostile territory, braver than anyone I’d ever known. Hearing him again was like feeling the moonlight after years of endless night.
The commanding officer stood at my side, his posture rigid. “Freya… some of the footage pertains to classified missions. By regulation, we can’t let you see those segments. I hope you understand.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. “I understand.” My voice trembled with unshed grief.
The officer went on. “But from the fragments we restored, we can confirm this much–your brother’s final mission was tied to the border fire five years ago. His drone captured signs of the blaze before it spread out of control. He must have encountered it mid–operation. The firestorm caused the drone to lose signal… and Eric disappeared soon after.”
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My hands curled into fists at my sides, claws threatening to pierce my palms. I had suspected this all along–that Eric’s disappearance was no accident, that the so–called ‘border fire‘ was more than what the official reports had claimed. And now, their words only confirmed the shadow that had haunted me for years.
If not for that inferno, Eric would still be alive. He would still be here with me.
The officer hesitated. “We’re cross–referencing casualty records from Deepmoor City and the border region. With a fire of that scale, it’s possible some victims were unaccounted for. After all these years…” His gaze softened, almost pitying. “It’s likely Eric perished that day.”
My teeth ground together. No.
I refused to believe it. My brother was the fiercest wolf I had ever known. I had seen him survive bullet storms, traps set by rogues, even ambushes in contested lands. He had sworn to protect me when I was just a pup, and I could still feel the echo of his promise.
A fire could not have taken him.
Not Eric.
He was still alive. He had to be.
“I want to know the last recorded coordinates of his drone,” I demanded, forcing my voice steady even as my chest quivered.
The officer inclined his head. “That can be arranged.”
“And I want to see the footage again,” I pressed. “The part I was cleared to view.”
He nodded to a technician, who quickly replayed the segment. Grainy aerial shots filled the screen–the borderlands stretched beneath the drone’s lens, dry scrub, jagged rocks, shadows shifting with the wind. The fire had not yet erupted.
Then I saw it.
A spark. A plume of smoke curling in the distance.
My eyes narrowed. “Stop there.”
The technician froze the frame.
“Zoom in.”
The camera strained, the image distorting as the pixels stretched. The focal point grew larger
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-trees blackened at the edges, smoke thickening. And there… faint, blurred, but unmistakable
–
A figure.
A silhouette right at the ignition point.
“Again,” I said, my pulse racing.
The video replayed, and once more, the shadow appeared, caught at the very heart of the spark that became the inferno.
“Enhance,” I ordered.
The technician shook his head. “This is as clear as it gets. Five years have degraded the quality. Beyond this… it can’t be improved on our end.”
But I saw enough. My instincts screamed at me. Whoever that figure was, they were no coincidence. The fire wasn’t some accident–it was lit. And Eric had been caught in its wake.
I straightened, my wolf clawing inside me, snarling for answers. “Give me this video,” I said. “I’ll see if I can restore it further myself.”
The officer studied me for a moment before nodding. “Very well. But only this portion. The rest remains sealed.”
“That’s all I need,” I murmured.
When I stepped out of the compound, the autumn wind hit my damp cheeks, cooling the salt of my tears. In my hand, I clutched the small drive the officer had handed me, holding it as if it were the most precious relic in the world.
The U–disk burned against my palm like a live ember.
Because I knew.
The truth of that night–the fire, Eric’s disappearance–was buried in this footage. And I would tear through every shadow, every lie, every wall, until I dragged the truth into the light.
Eric wasn’t gone.
He couldn’t be.
And if the blaze was no accident, then someone lit it.
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Someone destroyed my brother’s life.
My wolf howled inside me, the sound vibrating through my bones. I will find them. I will find
him.
Even if I had to burn the world down to do it.
Chapter 244
Freya’s POV
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I pulled into the underground garage, the hum of my WolfComm silencing as I shut the engine. The air always carried that metallic tang of the city packs, but tonight it felt heavier, pressing against my chest.
When I stepped into the apartment, I froze. Silas was already there. He sat on the leather sofa, shoulders broad and posture sharp, flipping through a thick stack of documents. The light from the lamp cut across his scarred jawline, making him look every inch the Alpha of the Ironclad Coalition–unyielding, unreadable.
But the moment his eyes landed on me, all that iron melted. He dropped the papers at once
and stood.
“You’re back,” he said, voice low, carrying a weight that vibrated through the air between us.
I moved closer, my boots echoing softly against the floor. For a moment, I just looked at him, the man who had become the one constant in this chaotic world.
He hesitated, gaze narrowing as it fell on my face. “Freya… your eyes. They’re red. Have you been… crying?”
Before he could finish, something inside me snapped. I crossed the space in two strides and threw myself into his arms, burying my face deep in his chest. His scent–earth, steel, and the faint burn of wildfire–engulfed me, steadying the storm in my veins.
Silas stiffened in shock. I knew why. In his eyes, I had always been the strong one. The wolf who survived exile, betrayal, even rejection by the Silverfang Alpha Caelum. Tears were a luxury I couldn’t afford. But my eyes must have betrayed me now.
Had someone hurt me? Had the world pushed me too far? He didn’t know the truth–that the tears had fallen not from pain inflicted tonight, but from the memory of a voice I thought I’d never hear again. Eric’s voice. My brother’s laughter, carried through a fragment of drone footage from the Iron Fang Recon Unit. Five years gone, yet for a moment, it felt as if he were still alive, still here.
And then, walking into this apartment, seeing Silas sitting there, calm and waiting… the feeling hit me like a blade to the chest. Home. Not the Silverfang Pack that had chained me to Caelum. But here. With him.
My lips trembled against his shirt as I whispered, “Just… let me hold you for a while.”
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His chest rumbled with a sound almost like a growl, but it was softer–an Alpha’s vow given without words. “Alright,” he murmured. “Take all the time you need.”
I stayed like that, cocooned in his warmth, until the ache in my throat eased. Finally, I forced myself to lift my head. My eyes were burning, hazy with mist, the wolf within me pacing restlessly at the bond stirring in my core.
“Tell me what happened,” Silas said, his voice rough. His fingers brushed against my cheek with surprising gentleness, tracing away the wetness at the corner of my eyes. “Who made you cry? Just give me their name, Freya, and I’ll make sure they regret it.”
The fire in his tone was rare. Silas was the kind of Alpha who looked at the world with
indifference, his emotions forged into iron long ago. But for me–just for me–his rage burned hot and unrestrained.
My chest squeezed at the thought, and instead of breaking down again, I found myself smiling. A bitter, helpless curve of my lips. “It’s not what you think,” I rasped.
The truth was simple. Since my parents–Arthur and Myra–were buried in the Ashbourne Legion’s Hall of Martyrs, I hadn’t known what family felt like. I thought marriage to Caelum would give me that, but the Silverfangs never once treated me as kin. I was an ornament, an outcast, a means to an alliance that had long since rotted.
But here, with Silas… the moment I turned the key and stepped inside, something in me whispered: you’re home.
I pressed my forehead against his chest again, exhaling a shaky breath. “Silas… how am I supposed not to love you when you’re like this?”
His body stiffened. Slowly, almost unwillingly, he pulled back just enough to meet my gaze. “What… did you just say?” His voice cracked, a rare fracture in the armor of an Alpha. “You… love me?”
The disbelief in his expression nearly undid me. For so long, he’d carried his devotion silently, never asking for anything in return. Maybe he thought he wasn’t worthy. Maybe he thought my heart was still chained to Silverfang.
But I knew my truth now.
I nodded, steadying my breath, letting the certainty harden my voice. “Yes, Silas. I love you. I love you.”
The words shattered something inside him. His eyes flared with a primal glow, wolf–gold shining as a tear slipped down his cheek before he could stop it. Silas Whitmor, the Alpha forged of steel, was crying.
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My heart lurched. Before I could say another word, his arms crushed me to him, strong enough to squeeze the air from my lungs. “Freya… you can’t take that back. Not now. Not ever. You said it–you’re mine. You can’t regret it, you can’t walk away.” His voice shook, thick with desperation and something dangerously close to prayer.
I lifted a hand, stroking his back as though soothing a wolf on the edge of breaking. “I won’t regret it. I won’t take it back. I meant every word. I love you, Silas. You’re the only one.”
His breath hitched like he’d been drowning and finally found air. He buried his face against my hair, repeating my name like it was the only tether he had to reality. “Freya… Freya…”
I cupped his face, pulling back just enough to see him clearly. The strong Alpha who feared nothing—yet trembled now because of me. A tear still stained his cheek, and I couldn’t help but laugh softly, brushing it away. “You told me not to cry, and now look at you.”
“I’m not sad,” he said hoarsely. “I’m… happy. Gods, Freya, I didn’t even know I could feel this happy.”
His joy was so raw, so consuming, that it wrapped around me like a second heartbeat. For the first time in years, I let myself believe in a future not chained to sorrow.
“Then let’s hold onto this,” I whispered, voice firm despite the tears burning my throat. “We’ll face everything together. And when I find Eric, I’ll tell him the truth–that you are the man I chose. The man I love.”
Silas’s wolf surged in his chest, a low growl rolling out—not a warning, but a vow. His arms locked around me once more, unbreakable. And for the first time in a long, long while, I didn’t feel alone.
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Third Person’s POV
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Freya shook her head against him, her voice muffled. “It wasn’t like that. I went to the military compound today… I managed to recover the drone my brother Eric used before he disappeared. There were files left on the SD storage. Video. His voice.”
Silas’s body went rigid. His arms tightened around her as if he could shield her from the ache of memory. “And?” he pressed, his tone low, dangerous. “Was there a clue?”
Her eyes dimmed, shadowed with grief. “It confirmed what the generals suspect. Eric’s disappearance is tied to the great border fire. The Iron Fang Recon Unit never returned. The officials lean toward declaring him fallen…” Her voice cracked.
“No.” Silas’s growl thundered through the room, his eyes flashing. “Your brother is not dead.”
Silas’s jaw clenched, his wolf aura bristling. “I believe in him. He’s your brother, Freya. A wolf like that doesn’t vanish into ashes. He’s alive. Somewhere out there, he’s fighting to return.”
The words struck deep. A fragile spark flickered to life in Freya’s chest. She wanted to believe. Needed to believe. “Yes… he has to be alive,” she whispered.
Silas’s lips pressed thin, his expression shifting. “I had my people investigate Aurora and the co–pilot, James. What I uncovered…” He reached for the documents he had set down earlier and handed them to her. “I think you should see this.”
Freya’s fingers tightened around the papers. Silas’s voice lowered as he explained. “Five years ago, Aurora smoked. Not heavily, but enough–especially during missions or when stress. pressed her. She was seen at gatherings, sometimes outside a bar in Deepmoor City, cigarette in hand. But after the border fire, she stopped. Completely. Not one wolf has seen her touch a cigarette since.”
Freya’s brows furrowed as she scanned the notes. The implications settled over her like frost.
Silas went on, his tone sharp. “The mission Aurora flew was no small thing. The Bluemoon Airborne Wing was ordered to reach the border and pull trapped civilians back into pack lands. The chaos at the frontier made it dangerous–wolves died on those runs. Witnesses in Deepmoor said she was trembling, caught in the pressure. That’s when they saw her smoking, before she boarded the flight with James.”
Each detail wove into a larger net, drawing lines toward Aurora. Freya lowered her gaze to the evidence, her heartbeat quickening.
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“I need to repair one of the corrupted videos from Eric’s drone,” she said quietly. “Silas, the Whitmor family vault has advanced tech. Precision computers. Restoration hardware. Let me use them.”
“Freya.” Silas’s hand cupped her face, thumb brushing across her cheek. His eyes burned into hers, an Alpha’s vow behind them. “Anything that’s mine is yours. You never have to ask.”
Her chest tightened. Warmth filled her, pushing back the shadows. “Thank you,” she murmured.
He leaned closer, voice dropping into a near–growl. “Don’t thank me. You don’t owe me
stay, that gratitude. Only trust.” His wolf surged beneath the words, desperate that she would she would not slip through his fingers.
Across the city, in a dim bar on the edges of Deepmoor, Kade Blackridge lounged lazily at a corner table. A half–finished glass of liquor rested before him, though his golden eyes gleamed sharper than the blades strapped beneath his jacket.
At the next table, a man laughed too loud, a woman curled on his lap like a cat in heat. The man was Lee—a detective with greedy eyes and a rotting soul. Aurora’s misfortune had placed him in her path, and he had leeched off it ever since.
The woman tipped her glass, coaxing another laugh from him. “Lee, you’re generous tonight. Celebrating something?”
Lee puffed his chest, drunk and smug. “Something good, that’s what. I’ve hit the jackpot. Soon, I’ll be rich. Maybe I’ll let you enjoy the spoils if you behave.”
She giggled, pressing herself closer. “Oh? Tell me, Lee. What’s the secret? What’s got you so pleased?”
The alcohol loosened his tongue. “Hah! Someone hired me to dig into a case. But I found something better. There’s a wolf bitch out there–pretending to be a savior she’s not. Claimed she pulled a wolf from death when she didn’t. When I cornered her, she panicked. Paid me off to keep my mouth shut. Easy money.”
Lee grinned, pleased with himself, never noticing the predator watching from the shadows.
Kade had heard enough. He rose, pushing back his chair with deliberate slowness. His gaze swept the room like a blade unsheathed. He slipped out of the bar, his senses alert.
Moments later, the woman on Lee’s lap excused herself, heels clicking down the corridor. She caught up with Kade as they crossed paths. Her voice dropped to a whisper, careful not to be heard.
O
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“Kade… I did what you asked. You owe me.”
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He didn’t look at her, his voice a cool slice of steel. “You’ll get what I promised. Count on it.”
She smirked and vanished into the night.
Later, in a quiet meeting room, Lana frowned as Kade relayed what he’d overheard.
“So, Lee threatened Aurora. And the woman he spoke of–the one pretending to be the rescuer -he meant Aurora too?”
Kade’s expression was unreadable. “That’s what it sounded like.”