Ch. 246..250: A Warrior Luna's Awakening Chapter 246-250
Chapter 246
Third Person’s POV
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Aurora’s confidence had always bordered on arrogance, but this time, it glimmered with something sharper–desperation.
She had spun a tale for Caelum, the Alpha of Silverfang Pack, a story that cast her as the loyal savior and painted Freya in the shadows. She spoke it smoothly, her voice warm, eyes filled with crafted sincerity. Yet somewhere deep inside, Aurora knew the threads of her lies were fragile, like spider silk stretched too thin across a storm.
Freya’s allies, however, were not so easily deceived. Lana had caught the scent of falsehood first, her hackles raised, her instincts snapping like jaws. Kade’s anger had followed quickly, his sharp words tearing at the quiet evening air as if he were tearing flesh.
“She’s lying,” Lana hissed, pacing like a wolf caged too long. “Freya would never mistake something like this. That means Aurora must have woven the lie herself.”
Kade’s laugh was cold, cruel, his teeth bared in something that was not quite humor. “How amusing. To think Caelum has been fooled so thoroughly. I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he realizes he’s crowned the wrong wolf as his so–called savior.” His voice dropped into a snarl, bitterness echoing through the dim chamber. “Truth is, my sister should have left him to drown in that river. Would have saved us all the trouble.”
Lana nodded, fury sparking in her amber eyes. “Exactly. And now? We can’t just let those two run free–parading around as though their betrayal and ambition mean nothing. Aurora and Caelum deserve to choke on the mess they’ve made.”
The name Caelum sent heat rippling through the air, an Alpha of terrifying presence and relentless ambition. Yet even he had fallen prey to Aurora’s poisoned sweetness.
Kade leaned back, his words deceptively casual, but his eyes burned like wildfire. “Don’t worry. They won’t walk away unscathed. I’ll see to it that Caelum and Aurora perform the finest tragedy the packs have seen. For Freya’s sake, they’ll pay.”
His gaze gleamed with a predator’s promise.
Aurora, meanwhile, wasted no time tightening her snare.
Two days later, she led Caelum to a secure node of the Ironhold Consortium. Her manner was calm, her smile faint but steady as the final seals were signed. The Consortium’s representative transferred the funds swiftly.
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Fifty million credits. A staggering sum, sliding like blood into the veins of Caelum’s accounts. Relief washed over his features the moment the transaction cleared.
Aurora leaned closer, her tone rich with sweetness, but her eyes gleamed like a hawk’s. “Tonight we drink, Alpha. Let us celebrate not only your triumph, but the future. With this strength, SilverTech Forgeworks will rise higher, stronger. I’ve always believed in you, Caelum. I’ve never doubted you chose the right path.”
Her words were spun silk, carefully woven, and Caelum–driven by pride as much as ambition -let himself believe.
He pulled her into his arms, the weight of his Alpha presence pressing even in his intoxicated relief. “Aurora, I will not let you down. I’ll prove it. To you. To everyone. They’ll see I didn’t climb with Freya’s shadow beneath me. They’ll know I built SilverTech with my own claws.”
Aurora’s smile widened, smooth as moonlight on ice. The funds now flowed exactly where she wanted them—shielding her from the hounds of Lee, the private investigator she had feared, and binding Caelum ever tighter in her grasp. Two birds struck with one precise stone.
That night, back in the villa, she uncorked a bottle of dark crimson wine. The liquid shimmered like blood as she poured it into crystal. Caelum drank deeply, his throat working, his words tumbling out, loose and bitter, edged with the tang of too much truth.
“Clouds and shadows,” he muttered, his voice thick, “I’ll show them. Every last one who doubted me. Without Freya Thorne, without her cursed name, I’ll rise higher than ever. They’ll bow to Silverfang’s Alpha, and they’ll choke on it.”
Aurora pretended to drink, letting the glass hover at her lips, but only the scent of the wine touched her tongue. She smiled again, a smile polished and perfect.
Soon Caelum’s body sagged against the sofa, his WolfComm slipping from his hand. He muttered once more, incoherent, then fell silent. His chest rose and fell heavily, the Alpha deep in the vulnerable pull of sleep. The glass tipped from his slack hand, crashing against the marble floor, dark liquid spreading like spilled lifeblood across the carpet.
Aurora set her own glass down and crouched beside him. Her hand brushed his jaw, lingering, almost tender. “Caelum? Caelum.”
He didn’t stir.
Satisfied, her lips curved. She lifted his WolfComm and pressed his hand to the device, unlocking it with the ease of his fingerprint. The glow of the banking interface shone against her face like moonlight, promising power at her fingertips.
But then-
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Chapter 246
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A sharp wave churned in her stomach. The triumph drained from her face as nausea clawed at her throat. She clutched her belly, bolted for the washroom, and collapsed over the sink.
Her retching echoed harshly in the tiles.
It was long before the sickness ebbed. Weak but trembling with strange exhilaration, Aurora rinsed her mouth, wiped her lips, and raised her head to meet her own reflection.
Her pupils shone with triumph. Her hand crept slowly, almost reverently, to her stomach.
Her cycle had always been punctual. A week past due. And now,
now, the nausea–sudden, undeniable. The realization unfurled within her like a dark bloom.
A child.
Caelum’s child.
A rush of savage satisfaction swept through her veins. Her whisper was soft, intimate, dangerous.
“If I carry your heir, Caelum, you won’t be able to turn from me. You’ll make me your Luna. You’ll forgive everything. You’ll be mine, bound as tightly as your oath to the moon.”
Her eyes glittered like a wolf with prey pinned beneath her paws.
The world had cast her out, stripping her of her place, her name, her allies. She was a Beta’s daughter disgraced, shunned, a shadow. Friends had fled, whispering curses, as though her ruin was contagious.
But if she bore Caelum’s pup?
The game would change.
No longer would Aurora stand alone. She would chain Silverfang’s Alpha with blood itself. The child within her would be her greatest weapon, her most unbreakable bond,
And she would never, ever let go.
Chapter 247
Freya’s POV
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I sat hunched over the console, the glow of the screen burning into my tired eyes. The military’s drone footage had arrived from the Iron Fang Recon Unit earlier that morning, and I’d been working ever since to restore it. Line by line, pixel by pixel, the blurred shadows resolved into clearer shapes. My claws tapped impatiently against the desk as the software sharpened another frame.
And then–movement.
A figure stepped into view. The silhouette was indistinct, the face hidden in fog and shadow, but a sudden spark flared across the screen. My breath caught. A tiny flash–like the strike of a lighter.
If that glimmer was the ignition of a cigarette, then the smoker in the footage would be the one I was hunting. The true figure behind the fire that had haunted me.
The Iron Fang drones weren’t crude machines; they carried the Coalition’s best optics. If I could fully restore the video, I would know who had been there that night. I would have a face. I would have proof..
I worked until the sun bled low across the horizon. The room smelled of overheating circuits and my own fraying nerves. Just as my claws flexed toward another command, my WolfComm rang sharply, vibrating across the desk.
“Busy, little wolf?” Silas’s voice rumbled through the line, calm and deep, the steady weight of the Ironclad Alpha I’d come to lean on. “Do you want me to come pick you up?”
I rubbed my temples, exhaustion making my shoulders ache. “No need. I’ve done enough for today. I’ll drive back myself. You waiting for me at the apartment?”
“I’ll be there,” he said simply.
“Good.” I ended the call, packed up the files, and forced myself out into the night.
The roads were quiet, the hum of the engine a steady rhythm as I drove toward the Ironclad district. My WolfComm buzzed again. This time, it was Lana.
“There’s something you should know,” she said without preamble. “Kade’s digging unearthed something ugly. Aurora’s been tangled in dealings with some bastard named Lee. Blackmail. Payments. She claimed to be Caelum’s savior, but fate’s repaid her lies with chains of her own.”
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I clenched the steering wheel tighter, leather creaking under my grip. Aurora–her name itself was venom. “So the liar’s finally cornered. She wanted the world to believe she was the one who pulled Caelum from the river. But the gods don’t ignore false oaths. If the footage shows her with that lighter…”
I didn’t finish. My wolf was already snarling inside me, teeth sharp in my chest.
“Maybe this is only the beginning of her rot,” Lana muttered. “But whatever Kade’s planning, it won’t be a quiet ending for her and Caelum.”
“Good,” I whispered, though the sound was more a growl. “But I’ll find the final piece. When the video clears, if it proves what I think it will–Aurora will have nowhere left to hide.”
We spoke a little longer, but my mind was already on the hunt. By the time I pulled into the gates of Silas’s high–rise territory, the shadows of my thoughts had sharpened into cold focus.
I parked, stepped out–and froze.
Jocelyn was waiting near the entrance. My cousin. The pride of the Metropolitan branch of Stormveil Pack, her posture arrogant, her eyes calculating. She saw me at the same time I saw her. Her face twitched with surprise, then hardened into steel as she strode toward me.
“I’ll call you back,” I told Lana curtly, ending the line.
I slipped my WolfComm into my pocket, raised my head, and let my gaze cut into Jocelyn like frost. “What do you want?”
“I came for Silas,” she said, chin tilted in that familiar, disdainful angle. “But since you’re here, there are things you and I should discuss.”
“I doubt that.” My tone was sharp, my patience frayed. I brushed past her shoulder, refusing to indulge her games.
Her scent flared hot behind me as she hurried to block my path again. “You think you’ve won, don’t you? Wrapped Silas Whitmor around your finger? But tell me, Freya–what happens if he betrays you? Will you still stand by his side?”
I stopped. Slowly, I turned my head, letting my eyes lock with hers, cold and unyielding. “If Silas has something to confess, he’ll tell me. It won’t be you delivering his sins to me.”
Her laugh was sharp and brittle. “Do you really believe that? If a wolf like him wanted to hide something, he could bury it for a lifetime. You’d never know. And when you finally did, it would break you.”
I gave her nothing. Not a word. Not a flicker of reaction. I simply stepped forward, brushing
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Her voice chased after me, shrill and poisonous. “Freya! If he did betray you, could you truly stay with him? You’re too hard, too sharp, too unforgiving! No Alpha can stand a mate like that. He needs a woman who will love him blindly, who will forgive every sin, who will defend him no matter the crime. He needs someone like-”
“What I need,” a new voice cut in, low and dangerous, “is not for you to speak for me.”
Jocelyn froze. I felt it–the ripple of fear in her wolf, the sudden stiffness of prey sensing a predator’s shadow.
I turned and saw him. Silas.
He strode toward us, tall and broad–shouldered, the authority of an Ironclad Alpha radiating from every step. His handsome face was set in a mask of ice, his blue eyes glinting like steel in moonlight.
He came to stand at my side, his hand closing firmly around mine, grounding me. His gaze never left Jocelyn. “So tell me,” he said softly, the softness of a blade’s edge. “What is it you think I’ve done to betray Freya? What is it you believe I’ve hidden?”
Jocelyn paled. Sweat glistened across her brow. Her wolf shivered under his stare, and I knew she wouldn’t dare speak the truth she’d sniffed at the borders of the past. Not tonight. Not while Silas’s wrath hung in the air like a blade suspended above her throat.
If she revealed her knowledge now, she wouldn’t leave these grounds alive. She knew it. I saw it in her trembling lips, in the way her claws dug against her palms.
“Silas, I–I only meant…” she stammered, twisting her words into a fragile shield. “If, one day, you falter, Freya will never forgive you. She isn’t soft. She won’t look the other way. She’ll cut you down for the smallest betrayal. I only meant–you need someone who can endure you, who can stay at your side through everything, no matter what.”
Silas’s jaw clenched, the muscle twitching. His grip on my hand tightened just enough to
tremble.
I tilted my head up at him, catching the flicker of unease in his eyes. Jocelyn’s insinuation had struck somewhere raw, something buried deep that Silas didn’t want unearthed. My wolf pricked her ears, sensing it.
But this was not the place for weakness. Not with Jocelyn circling, hoping for blood.
I squeezed his hand in return, steady, firm, grounding him as he had grounded me. My gaze snapped back to Jocelyn, my voice low and lethal. “Whatever lies you’ve pieced together,
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Chapter 247
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whatever venom you think you can spit–you won’t bring it here. If you speak again, cousin, it won’t be words you leave with. It’ll be broken bones.”
Her eyes
widened. Her skin paled further. For a moment, I thought she might still try to push. But then the fire dimmed. She faltered. The bravado drained from her shoulders.
“You’re threatening me?” she whispered.
“No,” I said, my voice as sharp as a fang. “I’m promising you.”
The silence that followed was heavy, dangerous. And Jocelyn, for all her pride, took a step back.
Chapter 248
Third Person’s POV
Freya turned slowly, her eyes meeting Silas’s. “Let’s go,” she said.
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Silas inclined his head, the familiar weight of his presence walking with her, steady and reassuring. But even as they moved. Jocelyn’s gaze lingered on their retreating forms. A flash of resentment burned in her eyes–she hadn’t come here to witness Freya and Silas together, not after everything she had sacrificed.
Jocelyn’s voice cut through the tension like a sharpened fang. “Freya, don’t you care that Silas’s heart might belong to another?” Her tone carried desperation, yet edged with venom. “There’s a girl… a girl who once saved his life. All these years, he’s been searching for her. Don’t you fear that if he ever finds her, he will turn his loyalty to her completely? That you will be cast aside?”
Freya’s steps faltered, just a fraction, yet it was enough. The hand she had clasped around Silas’s stiffened in her grip. The warmth of his fingers–the comforting pulse she had relied on–suddenly seemed distant, taut with tension.
Even his breathing changed, shallow and rapid, betraying the calm mask he usually wore. Silas’s face paled, the color draining in an instant as if Jocelyn’s words had cut through his very veins. The warning in Freya’s heart tightened–this was no trivial accusation. At least some truth lingered there. Silas had been searching for a girl who had saved his life.
“I…” Silas’s voice was rough, caught in his throat. He opened his mouth, as if to explain, but words failed him.
Freya lifted a hand, cutting him off. “Later. Go back!”
She released his hand deliberately, the warmth and security that had anchored her slipping away in that single gesture. As her steps carried her closer to Jocelyn, Silas’s heart thudded in an unfamiliar panic. Each beat screamed at him, warning that distance was being forged, not by space, but by choices and truths left unspoken. He could feel it–the unrelenting pull of fate nudging Freya away. A surge of possessive instinct rose, clawing at him. No… not her. Not now.
Jocelyn forced herself to hold her posture, lifting her chin as if to appear defiant. “See? I told you the truth, Freya. Silas’s heart belongs to that girl. The moment she appears, you will be nothing to him!”
Then, like a bolt of lightning striking a wolf’s flank, Freya’s hand shot out. The slap landed with a sharp crack, pressing Jocelyn’s meticulously made–up cheek. Jocelyn reeled, pain flashing across her features. “You… you dare hit me?!” she spat, fury mixing with disbelief. “Do you even know the consequences? I can call the authorities!”
Freya didn’t flinch. Another strike followed, echoing in the hall, leaving a deep mark across Jocelyn’s face. She stared coldly, her voice carrying the authority of an Alpha yet tinged with raw emotion. “Call whoever you want. I don’t care. But Jocelyn, who gave you the right to demean me in my presence, to speak words Incant to wound and belittle met
Jocelyn stammered, trying to find footing, her gaze flicking past Freya to Silas, standing a few steps behind. Those amber–gold eyes were no longer the warm presence she remembered–they were predatory, coiled like a wolf ready to strike. A warning burned in that gaze: linger, and Silas would not hold back. Not even for her. Not a slap, not a word–he would unleash the full force of the Ironclad Alpha’s wrath.
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Fear edged Jocelyn’s resolve. She could feel the power, the danger, and with a final, resentful glare, she turned and fled.
Freya pivoted, walking back to Silas. “Let’s go home.”
His voice was hoarse, low and edged with tension. “Mm.”
The ride back to their apartment was silent. The city passed like a blur, the sounds fading behind the solid bubble of their shared presence. Once inside, Freya removed her coat, turning to find Silas’s face pale and tight with something she hadn’t expected–guilt, perhaps, or the strain of unspoken truths.
“Was what Jocelyn said… true?” Freya asked, her voice steady but carrying the weight of a question that could fracture trust.
Silas stiffened, feeling as though the warmth in his blood had frozen. Every fiber of his being braced under her gaze, knowing a single misstep could shatter what they had built.
“Don’t lie to me,” Freya pressed. “I’ve said before, the love I want is one built on trust. Lies destroy it. If there’s no trust, I don’t know how to share a life with someone who cannot be trusted.”
Silas’s lips pressed thin. After a long moment, he spoke, his voice raw with memory and regret. “When I was a child, I was caught in a violent uprising abroad. There was… a little girl. She saved my life. But I don’t remember her face. I was small, the events… they blur. And yes, I’ve sent people to find her, over the years, though I’ve never expected anything more than knowing she was safe.”
Freya’s pulse quickened. “So she’s always been in your heart?”
“Always,” he admitted quietly. “I wanted to ensure she never lacked for anything. If she ever struggled, I would provide, repay the debt of her saving my life.”
A tense silence settled between them. Freya’s own chest throbbed, a mixture of fear and something unspoken she hadn’t anticipated. She swallowed, the next words trembling on her lips.
“And… if one day you find her? If she seeks you out, shows affection, wishes to be with you… could you… remain indifferent?”
Her voice carried in the room, delicate yet fierce. Silas’s golden gaze met hers, locked in the unspoken truth of a wolf alpha: that past debts and loyalties could never erase the bonds forged in trust and love.
O
Chapter 249
Silas’s POV
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I watched Freya Thorne closely, my chest tightening with every word that passed between us. Her gaze didn’t waver; those amber eyes were fixed on me, steady, unyielding, burning with a fire I knew could consume me if I misstepped. I could feel the weight of her expectation pressing into me, testing me.
“I.. why wouldn’t I be able to remain indifferent?” I murmured, my voice low but firm. I needed her to understand. “Freya, I am not a child anymore. I know the difference between gratitude and love.”
Her brows furrowed slightly, but she didn’t interrupt. Good. She needed to hear this from me directly, without shadows of doubt. “I am grateful to her,” I continued, feeling the words weigh heavier than I expected. “The world around me… it’s always full of people who want something from me. My father wanted to use me to control my mother, to manipulate and bind her. My grandfather…. he wanted me to be the perfect heir, a shield to guard the SilverTech Forgeworks name. But that girl… she never wanted anything from me. She only wanted to save me.”
I took a slow breath, letting the memory flow over me. The memory wasn’t clear, not the face, not the features–but the essence of that moment remained, sharp as a fang against my ribs. “And after I met you… Freya, my gratitude to her became even deeper. Because if not for her, I might have died in that chaos. I wouldn’t have met you. I wouldn’t have understood… the depth of what love can feel like. How much one person can come to mean.”
I saw her chest rise and fall slightly faster. Her lips pressed together, a telltale sign of her tension. She was holding back something. I could feel it in the air around us–sharp, fragile, like the scent of rain before a
storm.
“But…” I hesitated, each word deliberate, measured, absolute. “Beyond that gratitude… I will feel nothing else for her. Not love, not longing. Even if she is my life–saver, even if fate had brought her back to me, my heart… my soul… they belong to you. If you have doubts, Freya, I swear it: should I ever find her again, I will not see her. I will let my people handle her, repay the debt of her bravery, and that will be all.”
Her eyes didn’t leave mine. I could see her weighing every word, the intensity of her gaze burning through me like wildfire. She believed me. At least, I hoped she did.
“If we ever do find her…” she said softly, and my heart skipped a beat. “…I want to go with you.”
I blinked, momentarily surprised. I hadn’t expected that. The thought of her being part of that moment…
it should have been unnecessary, yet the way she said it, the way her voice held steadiness amid uncertainty… it warmed something in me I hadn’t dared to name.
“Because… I want to thank her too,” she continued, her amber eyes softening, fierce even in that tenderness. “For saving you. For letting me meet you.”
My throat tightened. I wanted to tell her she had no need to worry, that she was the only one my heart could ever seek, but the words were already caught in the tension of the moment. “…You…. really don’t mind?” I muttered, barely above a growl.
“I am not so easily thrown by shadows of the past,” Freya replied. Her voice was firm, unwavering. “Besides…. you have done nothing wrong. Wanting to repay a life debt, seeking the girl who saved you, there is no crime in that. I do not concern myself with what hasn’t yet come to pass. But-” She paused, drawing in a slow, steady breath. “…if one day, you truly find yourself drawn to someone else… and cannot
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love me fully, I will not cling. I will leave.”
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A pang shot through me. I knew exactly what she feared–Caelum Grafton’s ghost still haunted her memories, a man who had taken without giving, a man who had betrayed every trust. But I was not Caelum. I would never be.
“Freya,” I said, moving closer, my voice dropping to a growl that only she could hear. “You are the only one who could ever make me feel this way. No past, no debt, no shadow from the world… nothing can ever change that. You, and only you, can awaken what my heart seeks.”
Freached out, clasping her hand, feeling the warmth of her skin seep into mine, chasing away the cold emptiness I had carried for so long. Her warmth… it had been absent, even for a heartbeat, and I had realized just how much I needed it.
I drew her hand up, pressing it to my cheek, feeling the heat and life in her palm. This… this was what I had craved, the brilliance of life itself. It had once been a curiosity, a light I could not comprehend in that distant, violent chaos. A little girl’s courage had shown me that. But with Freya… it was no longer curiosity. It was hunger. Greed, even. I wanted that light all to myself, wanted to shield it, to hold it, to never let it go.
And I would.
Even when that fear tried to claw its way into me–insecurities about shadows of the past, memories of helplessness–I would not let it. Her brilliance was mine to protect, mine to keep. I would give her everything I had: my anger, my joy, my very life. And I would not let her go.
“Freya,” I whispered, my voice rough with emotion, “you spoke of me feeling for someone else….. that will never happen. And you… you cannot leave me. If you saved me once, you have already saved me again, over and over. Do not ever let me fall back into that darkness. Do not ever abandon me.”
She met my gaze, unwavering, and in that moment, I knew–our bond was forged, tempered in fire and loyalty, sharpened by the wolves we were. No shadow, no debt, no distant memory would sever it. I had found my mate. My heart. My light. And I would defend it with every fiber of my being.
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As his words fell. Silas’s lips descended on Freya’s, a kiss that burned with a desperation only an Alpha could wield. It was as if he wanted to pour every ounce of his devotion into her, branding her with the truth of his vow.
The next morning, Caelum awoke with a pounding headache, the kind that clawed behind his eyes like talons. His mind was foggy, fragments of the night before blurred into nothing but the bitter aftertaste of alcohol.
“What happened last night?” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face. He could barely recall lifting his glass, let alone what followed.
“You’re awake,” Aurora’s soft voice came from beside the bed. She stood there, the Bluemoon Pack’s Beta’s daughter, composed yet faintly flushed. “You drank too much. It took everything I had to drag you to bed.”
“Is that so?” Caelum frowned, rubbing his temple. He remembered drinking, but the rest was a haze- swallowed whole by the dark.
“When did your tolerance slip so low?” Aurora teased lightly, though her eyes glimmered with something unreadable. “I don’t recall you being this easy to topple before.”
“Maybe… last night was simply too joyful,” Caelum answered flatly. “I lowered my guard, let the drink take me.”
Aurora tilted her head. “Then you should guard yourself better. Today–do you have time? I’d like you to come with me to the hospital.”
The Alpha of Silverfang stiffened slightly. “Are you unwell?” His tone carried an edge of concern, though suspicion lingered beneath.
Aurora’s lips curved faintly. “No. It’s nothing serious. Just a small check–up.”
Caelum nodded, though unease slithered at the edges of his mind. Why would she smile so brightly if she were truly sick? Why did her words feel rehearsed?
At the hospital, Aurora signed her name for an appointment in the women’s ward. When her number was called, she glanced back at Caelum with a serene expression. “Wait for me here.”
He gave a curt nod, his Alpha instinct urging him to follow, yet restrained by her composure. Something
felt off.
Aurora disappeared behind the door, returning minutes later before heading for a blood test. Caelum’s sharp eyes caught the flicker of satisfaction that crossed her face, subtle, but unmistakable. His frown deepened.
Meanwhile, Freya sat at her computer, her jaw tight as she worked through corrupted footage. Her fingers flew across the keys, the wolf within her urging patience as she reconstructed the fractured video frame by frame. Slowly, the murky shadows gave way to clarity.
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Her pulse quickened when a figure emerged on the screen–a woman’s silhouette. The grainy image revealed little more than the curve of her face, the tilt of her jaw, but it was enough.
The woman lit a cigarette, the ember flaring briefly before fading into the dark.
Freya’s eyes widened, her pupils narrowing sharply. She leaned closer, heart pounding. She knew that profile. Knew it in her bones.
Aurora.
Even blurred, even half–hidden by shadow, it was her.
The footage continued. Another figure approached–a man. From the broad frame and uniformed outline, Freya recognized him as the co–pilot who later perished in the flames. Aurora moved, a small flick of her hand, tossing something unseen.
The screen captured a spark, a sudden flare of fire, before the drone’s camera drifted away, leaving only fragments of the tragedy behind.
Freya’s body trembled with restrained fury. Her gaze locked on the frame, on the careless motion of Aurora discarding the cigarette, and her vision blurred with unshed tears.
If Aurora had not cast away that ember… there would have been no fire. No inferno to consume so many lives. No chaos to swallow her brother whole.
Eric
Her hands clenched into fists so tightly that the sound of her knuckles cracking echoed in the quiet room. She had endured lies, endured betrayal, endured watching Caelum claim another under the guise of “gratitude.” But this… this was different.
Aurora had not only stolen her place as Caelum’s so–called savior–she had stolen her brother.
Freya’s wolf stirred, a low growl rumbling deep in her chest, vibrating with the need for vengeance. Her amber eyes burned as she seized her WolfComm and dialed Silas Whitmor’s number.
He answered quickly, his voice steady, commanding, the Ironclad Coalition Alpha always attuned to her calls. “Freya? What’s wrong? Your voice-”
“Silas,” she hissed, her words sharp as fangs. “I need you to track Aurora. Find out where she is, right now.”
“Of course,” Silas replied instantly, though concern edged his tone. “But Freya, your voice sounds strained. Are you-”
“It’s not my body,” she snapped, hey breath shaking. “It’s the truth. I know who caused the border fire. I know who destroyed everything”
Silence fell for half a heartbeat before Silas’s voice darkened. “Aurora”
“Yes!” Freya’s voice cracked with fury. “If not for her, that blaze never would have started. If not for her, Eric wouldn’t be missing, wouldn’t have vanished into smoke and ash. If my brother-” She bit back a sob, her throat tight with grief and rage. “…If my brother is gone because of her, I will not rest until she pays. I will drag her into the flames she lit and make her choke on the ashes.”
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Silas’s growl resonated through the line. “Then we will make her pay. Whatever it takes, I will stand beside you. Wait for my word.”
The call ended, leaving the room in silence but for the sound of Freya’s heavy breathing.
Her gaze returned to the screen, to the frozen frame of Aurora tossing away her cigarette. Her vision blurred with fury as tears burned her eyes, and her heart clenched with grief so sharp it felt like claws piercing her chest.
She had never hated anyone like this. Not when Aurora stole her title as Caelum’s “savior.” Not even when Caelum chose another over her. Those had been wounds of betrayal, of broken trust.
But this… this was different.
This was blood.
And blood demanded blood.
Freya’s wolf surged, pacing inside her chest, snarling for justice. Her fists trembled as she whispered to the empty room, her voice raw and venomous:
“Aurora… you will pay for what you’ve done. With your life, with your pack’s honor, with every drop of blood you thought you could spill without consequence.”
The screen flickered, the image frozen on Aurora’s shadowed face, the ember of her cigarette flaring before the fire consumed it all.
Freya’s eyes gleamed with tears and rage. The time for patience was over. The hunt had begun.