Ch. 26..30: A Warrior Luna's Awakening Chapter 26-30
Chapter 26
Freya’s POV
The next morning, I arrived at Silas Whitmor’s estate, the ancient sigils of the Ironclad Coalition etched in obsidian stone and silver above the archway. I clutched the rare tome–M’s Bestiary of Skyborne Avians–wrapped in deep burgundy leather, still warm from the hearth in my study where I had pored over it all night.
“Mr. Whitmor,” I said once I was shown into the marble–clad receiving chamber, “I’ve finished reading the book. Thank you for letting me borrow it.”
He looked up from his writing desk, expression unreadable. “I recall instructing my driver to tell you it was a gift.”
I stiffened. “It’s far too valuable. Our relationship hasn’t reached the point where a gift like that would be appropriate.”
Silas leaned back, folding his arms in a way that reminded me of a predator lounging just before the pounce. “If a gift can’t bring joy to its recipient, then even a priceless one is nothing more than dead paper. If you don’t want it–throw it out.”
I stared at him. Throw it out?
Throw out a first edition of a book last auctioned at twelve million marks?
A book I’d loved since I first saw it referenced in Halston’s archives?
Absolutely not.
My jaw tightened. “What is it that you really want, Silas?”
His gaze sharpened, as if sniffing out my discomfort. “Only to thank you.”
For a heartbeat, I didn’t understand–then it clicked.
“You mean at the Runestone Grounds?” I asked.”
His brow arched faintly. “Did I?”
“You already repaid me,” I reminded him. “Didn’t you fund a lunar school in my mother’s name?”
He smiled, slow and razor–edged. “And you think that’s worth the life you saved?”
The air between us stilled, thick with something I couldn’t name.
“Regardless,” he added, standing now, “if you truly insist on returning the book… I’ll take it back–on one condition.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What condition?”
“Come with me to the Runestone Market, There’s a rare book fair today. You love ancient texts, don’t you? Perhaps we’ll find something even more enticing than M’s Bestiary.”
Runestone Market. The underground labyrinth of rare finds and old magic. If I refused… I’d be handing him that priceless relic back only for it to be tossed away as meaningless,
And he knew that. He had read me too well.
…Alright,” I said after a pause. “I’ll go.”
of the
Two days later, I found myself trailing Silas Whitmor through the arched stone aisle
Runestone Market. It was nestled beneath the ruins of the Old Sky Monastery–now overrun by traders of lost texts, cursed pages, and relics older than any living wolf.
And just as he promised, it was glorious.
I’d already found two rare editions I hadn’t seen since my days under Professor Hawthorne’s mentorship at Halston. One even bore a blood seal from the Second Moon War.
We paused at a rooftop bistro when our arms grew heavy with tomes.
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“I’m stepping out to the washroom,” I said.
He nodded, glancing out at the twilight horizon.
The upper–level lavatories were under repair, so I took the staircase down to the second floor.
As I approached the stalls, I caught a murmur–clipped and urgent–in French. A tongue I hadn’t used since I served with the Iron Fang Recon Unit during the coalition skirmishes in the Galen Wastes.
“Oui… tout est prêt. Une fois le temps écoulé, ça explosera. Ce bâtard du clan Whitmor mourra aujourd’hui.”
Everything is ready. Once the timer is up, it’ll blow. That Whitmor bastard will die today.
My blood ran cold.
Silas.
I burst from the stall, heart hammering in my throat, but the voice had gone. Only the tail end of a shadowed figure vanished through the exit.
shoved the door open and ran into the crowd.
Too many people. Too much scent. My wolf stirred under my skin, snarling to be unleashed–to chase, to hunt–but I held her back. I couldn’t afford to shift here. Not yet.
Think, Freya.
They said when the time is up, it’ll explode.
A timed detonation.
If Silas was the target, then the bomb would be close to him–somewhere in the vicinity of the rooftop where we’d just been.
There was no time to hesitate.
I reached for my comm crystal, hesitating only a second before tapping an old contact.
Someone I swore I’d never call again.
“Freya?” came a voice I hadn’t heard in months.
I breathed. “I need you.”
Then I told him everything–the overheard conversation, the danger to Silas, the packed marketplace above us.
“We don’t know if it’s credible,” he warned. “An evacuation could cause a panic. Injuries. Maybe even deaths.”
“I trust you to handle it without chaos. Please.”
There was a pause.
“Would you have ever contacted me again if this hadn’t happened?”
My throat tightened. “…I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for. I told you once–if you ever gave me an order, I’d follow it. No questions asked.”
The comm went silent.
exhaled. Finally, finally letting my heartbeat slow.
But it wasn’t over.
Not yet.
Silas Whitmor might be a calculating wolf of old blood and power, but at this moment–he was prey.
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And I wasn’t about to let him fall.
Chapter 27
Freya’s POV
He said yes..
That was all I needed to hear.
If Kade Blackridge had agreed to step in, the Runestone Market would be evacuated–quietly, efficiently, without panic. That meant I could focus on what came next.
Finding Silas Whitmor.
I bolted toward the elevator, slamming the call button with blood–slick fingers.
Nothing,
No response. Just a dead panel staring back at me.
Damn it.
Had they sabotaged this too?
A low snarl rippled from my chest before I could stop it. My wolf pushed hard under my skin, impatient and coiled tight. She wanted out. She wanted to run.
So I gave in.
The shift tore through me in a flash of pain and power–fur bursting over my limbs, bones warping, lungs expanding. Within seconds, my two–legged form was gone, replaced by sinew and fang and frost–white fur.
The white wolf–the Ghost of the Iron Fang Recon–was loose.
I sprang into the emergency stairwell and tore up the concrete steps four at a time. Claws clicked against the stone, muscles burning in the best way. My eyes, keener in this form, caught every movement in the shadows. Ears twitched, locked onto sound.
Sixth floor.
I needed the tenth.
Four levels stood between me and Silas.
As I hit the eighth floor landing, the comms crackled to life above me..
.
“This is a routine emergency drill for fire and quake safety. Please exit calmly via the marked stairwells.”
A lie.
But a good one. Kade had already begun the sweep.
The civilians were being evacuated.
I let out a huff, tongue lolling in brief relief.
Good.
Now I just needed to reach Silas–and pray I wasn’t too late.
When I leapt through the tenth floor doorway, the lights cut.
Total blackout.
My paws slowed, pads silent as death across the tile. The scent hit me first–blood, fresh and copper–sweet, thick in the air
like a mist.
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Then the sounds:
Thuds, Growls. Bone striking bone.
A scream. A snarl. And then–rage.
“Silas Whitmor! I’ll tear your throat out!”
The words were soaked in fury, the kind that only came from betrayal.
I shifted mid–run, bones snapping, fur sinking back beneath my skin. My human form returned just as I rounded the corner. to the upper terrace-
And froze.
Carnage.
Bodies lay sprawled across the floor like fallen leaves, limbs bent in ways they weren’t meant to bend. Blood painted the walls in arcs. Some groaned. Most didn’t move.
And at the center of it all…
Silas.
Standing.
Drenched in red.
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Blood clung to his hands, splattered across his bare forearms and throat. His shirt was torn open, exposing old scars and fresh gore. His eyes–dark, bottomless–locked on me with quiet calculation.
Dead calm.
But his lips curled faintly. “You’re late,” he said, voice smooth as wet stone. “A pity. You missed the best parts.”
I didn’t flinch.
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I’d seen blood. I’d made others bleed. But something about him–the ease with which he stood among the dead–wasn’t just terrifying.
It was real.
He didn’t pretend to be anything he wasn’t.
He just… was,
I stepped closer. “Are you hurt?”
Svev
His brows lifted, amused. “I expected you to be more concerned about the ones on the floor.”
“I’m not that selfless,” I replied tightly. “If you’re still upright and sarcastic, I’ll take that as a good sign. But this place isn’t safe. We need to move–now.”
I grabbed his wrist, fingers curling around warm skin slick with someone else’s blood, and pulled him toward the exit.
Then-
Tick. Tick, Tick.
sound, sharp and steady, cut through the silence.
Not water.
A timer.
I froze.
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No way I missed that on the way in. The fight must have muffled it–but now it echoed, loud and mocking.
My body moved on instinct. “Down!”
I tackled Silas, shoving him to the floor, shielding his body with mine just as the timer’s ticking shifted into a strange electric hum.
But…
No explosion.
No blast wave.
No shrapnel.
Just… silence.
His voice came cool beneath me. “There won’t be an explosion.”
I blinked. “What?”
“The payload was altered,” he said calmly. “Trigger’s dead. Even at zero, it’s inert.”
I stared at him, still straddling his chest. “You knew about the bomb?”
“Yes,” he said simply. “This was the second attempt.”
I frowned. “Second?”
“The second time you’ve thrown yourself between me and death.”
His
eyes anyone?”
searched mine–dark, unwavering. “Why, Freya? Because you were Iron Fang? Because you’d do the same for
I exhaled. “Isn’t that reason enough?”
The pause between us was taut, humming like a drawn bowstring. Not panic. Not adrenaline.
Recognition.
Then I stood, just as his enforcers stormed the terrace.
They moved quickly–retrieving the disabled bomb, restraining the last of the would–be assassins, and clearing the mess like professionals. Efficient. Trained.
One of them approached with a black towel and folded clothes. “Alpha.”
Silas accepted the towel, wiping the blood from his hands like it was ash, like it meant nothing. Then he unfastened his shirt and let it fall–calm, uncaring.
I turned fast, cheeks flushing. “You’re clearly in one piece. I’ll go.”
“You should change first,” he said, voice smooth behind me. “You’re covered in blood. Would be hard to explain that in the lobby.”
I looked down.
Red.
Right. I hadn’t noticed–too focused on staying alive.
Another enforcer offered a set of women’s clothing. I accepted it without a word and retreated to the employee changing room tucked off the stairwell.
Once clean and dressed, I stepped into the elevator with Silas. It whirred to life beneath us, descending.
Chapter 28
Freya’s POV
I blinked in surprise.
“Have you really thought about being my bodyguard?” Silas Whitmor asked, his voice low, deliberate.
So that was what he meant.
“I already told you–I’m not planning on being anyone’s bodyguard right now. Besides, you have plenty of others protecting you. They’re more than enough,” I said, steady despite the sudden tension.
“But if it were you, no matter what danger came, you wouldn’t leave me behind. Right?” His gaze locked onto mine, intense and unblinking.
He lowered his head, closing the gap between us. Those usually cold, dead–looking eyes flickered–just barely–with something like… longing.
Longing?
The word flashed in my mind, and I almost laughed at myself. What was I thinking? No matter what, Silas Whitmor wouldn’t desire a bodyguard.
“There are many who wouldn’t abandon you, Silas. You don’t need me.”
Ding.
The elevator chimed, arriving at the first floor. The doors slid open, and I stepped out quickly.
“You should still get a full check–up at the hospital. Better safe than sorry. I’m heading back,” I said, turning on my heel.
Men like Silas Whitmor radiate danger like a beast marking territory. Instinct screamed: keep your distance.
I felt watched my retreating figure quietly, then slowly spoke to the man beside him.
“How do you think I can win Freya Thorne?”
Wren, Silas’s personal secretary, stiffened.
“Her history… she’s not one to be swayed by money. Even though she’s out of the Iron Fang Recon Unit, there’s still that soldier’s pride deep in her bones,” Wren said carefully.
He was the one who’d done all the digging on me. He knew my story inside and out.
Silas murmured, “If it’s an order… would she obey?”
It was clear now. Silas truly wanted me.
I wondered if that was a blessing… or a curse.
Back at the villa, I dropped the bloodstained clothes I’d changed out of in the laundry room. Silas’s gift–a full outfit from some luxury brand–I’d looked it up online on the way back. Over seventy thousand credits. Typical of the rich–throwing money around like it was dirt,
I’d get it dry–cleaned and send it back later.
My phone buzzed. Lana’s name flashed on the screen.
I answered.
Freya! You actually ran into that bomb at the mall? Are you okay?” Lana’s voice was loud, frantic.
“I’m fine,” I said. “How’d you hear so fast?”
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“You called Kade Blackridge, didn’t you? Of course, I’d find out! You went to him first and didn’t think to call me?” She sounded hurt–and jealous.
I chuckled softly. “Kade can evacuate a crowd in minutes. Can you do that?”
Silence.
Kade Blackridge was Blackridge Pack’s golden boy. Son of the district commander and a renowned scholar. His connections were as sharp as his instincts.
“But you know, you really pissed Kade off back when you married Caelum Grafton without telling anyone,” Lana grumbled. “Now one call, and he drops everything to help? Does that mean he’s forgiven you?”
“Even if he’s still mad, he knows when things are serious,” I replied.
“True. After all, he was military, too,” Lana muttered.
Back when I served in the Iron Fang Recon Unit, Kade had been on my team. We’d fought through hell together.
“Was?” I paused. “He’s out now?”
“Yeah. Not long after your wedding, he retired, went overseas for three years. Just got back recently,” Lana explained.
I was surprised. I thought the Blackridge family wanted Kade climbing ranks, becoming a top Alpha one day.
“We should get together sometime–just us girls. That’ll teach him not to hold grudges for three years,” Lana said, a teasing edge to her voice.
“Deal,” I smiled, picturing the young soldier shouting “Big sis!” at me with all the fierce loyalty of a wolf pack.
I had been rash–marrying Caelum quietly, leaving so many in the dark. It wasn’t right.
At that moment, Caelum stepped into the laundry room.
I frowned slightly, pocketing my phone.
Chapter 29
Freya’s POV
I was startled when Caelum Grafton appeared in the laundry room, drawn by the sound of my voice. But the moment his eyes landed on the bloodied clothes soaking in the sink, his expression shifted sharply.
“What happened? Are you hurt?” His concern cut through the silence like a knife. He reached out and took my hand, as if to check for injuries himself.
I looked up at him, surprised. In this moment, the Caelum before me reminded me of the man he was three years ago- when he cared like this.
It was that memory, that fragile remnant of the man he used to be, that had pushed me to marry him in the first place.
But after we wed, his concern faded like smoke, replaced by an obsession with his white moonlight–Aurora.
Some men are forever chasing what they can’t have, never treasuring what’s right in front of them.
“I’m fine. That’s someone else’s blood on my clothes,” I said, pulling my hand free gently.
“Someone else’s blood? What happened?” Caelum’s brow furrowed.
“There was an incident at the Runestone Grounds. Someone got hurt, and my clothes caught some blood by accident.” I didn’t want to drag him into the chaos of the mall, so I kept it light.
He exhaled, visibly relieved. “As long as you’re okay.”
“So… why are you back so early? Didn’t you stay with Aurora?” I asked casually.
His face twitched, shadows darkening his eyes. “Aurora and I are just friends. You’re my wife. I know you’ve been through a lot lately. I’ll spend more time with you from now on.”
From now on? I scoffed inside. There was no from now on between us anymore.
If he truly saw me as his wife, he wouldn’t have abandoned me repeatedly for Aurora.
“So, you really came back early just for me?” I looked him straight in the eyes.
For a moment, I saw him falter, as if caught in my gaze like a wolf cornered. “I… yes, of course, to be with you. And to talk about the company. I want you to come back.”
I smiled, knowing the truth behind his words. That was the real reason.
“I’ve joined a friend’s company. I’m not returning to SilverTech Forgeworks.”
He clenched his jaw. “I know you’re at SkyVex Armaments, but you’re my wife. Am I less important than a friend?”
I bit back a bitter retort. “Then why do I feel like Aurora matters more than me?”
His expression darkened. After a pause, he said, “Enough. I just want you back at the company.”
“I refuse,” I said firmly!
His brows knitted. “Are you still sulking?”
“I’m not sulking,” I replied evenly. “When I quit, I meant it. No return.”
His face fell. “You know your move to SkyVex violates your non–compete agreement. I can sue you. You’d have to pay all the company’s losses. Plus, any SkyVex projects you’re involved in could be affected.”
I stared at him, disbelief chilling my blood. To hear this from him–this wasn’t the man I married.
He avoided my eyes. “If you don’t want to drag your friend’s company into trouble, you’d better come back.”
I sneered. “Caelum Grafton, I thought you might be ambiguous in personal matters, but at least decent in business. I guess I
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was wrong.”
His face went pale. “I just want the company through this crisis. The project partner said they’ll only continue if you lead it. They even know you’re with SkyVex now, implying a partnership.”
He needed me back, no matter what.
“I won’t return to SilverTech Forgeworks,” I said coldly.
His voice rose. “Aren’t you afraid of being sued?”
“Then sue me. If I ever signed a non–compete contract, I’d be scared,” I said. “But I only ever signed a standard employee
contract.”
His face twisted with rage.
Of course. From the beginning, when he started the company, he’d treated me like a clueless worker. The paperwork proved
it.
No non–compete. No leverage.
He had no case..
Chapter 30
Third Person’s POV
In the days that followed, Caelum Grafton found himself scrambling desperately to secure funds. The banks had shut him. down cold–no loans, no lifeline. SilverTech Forgeworks‘ financial chain was dangerously close to snapping.
After yet another curt refusal over the phone, Caelum slammed his device onto the desk, frustration simmering beneath his composed Alpha exterior.
Three years since the company’s founding, everything had flowed smoothly–until Freya Thorne left. Suddenly, projects faltered, finances unraveled, and chaos spread through even the most stable ventures.
“Why can’t even these small problems be handled anymore? Nothing used to go wrong,” Caelum bellowed at the latest meeting.
But the senior executives‘ answer was a cold splash of reality: “Those issues were always managed by Supervisor Thorne.”
Though Freya was gone, her presence clung like a ghost, shadowing the corridors and boardrooms of SilverTech.
His mind involuntarily flicked to the words of the rival project manager who’d once warned him, “You don’t understand Miss Thorne’s true worth.”
Worth?
To Caelum, she’d been just an Omega with an unremarkable degree–why else had he slapped her into a desk job so easily?
But now he wondered: beyond her national defense academy credentials, her top–scoring brilliance in the capital’s sciences and pilot’s nerve–what other secrets did Freya carry?
“Trouble on your mind?” Aurora’s calm voice cut through the haze.
Caelum blinked and looked up at the Bluemoon Pack’s Beta daughter. Once, she’d been just a distant dream–Bluemoon’s precious heiress, while he was nothing but a penniless pup, w
He never imagined he’d one day sit across from her, sharing a meal like equals,
“Just minor issues,” he replied, downplaying the storm inside.
Aurora smiled softly. “About that villa you mentioned–I upfront, the seller might knock off five million.”
Went to see it. I actually liked it. The realtor said if you pay in full
Her words sent a ripple through Caelum’s face. The villa had been intended a according to plan, spending thirty million wouldn’t have been a problem.
But now? That money was nowhere in sight.
a gift for Aurora. If everything had gone
“Let’s postpone buying the villa. Maybe there’s a better one waiting,” Caelum suggested cautiously.
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Aurora lifted her chin with a proud tilt. “If you don’t want to give it, just say so. I’m not desperate for gifts.”
“No, that’s not it. Compared to the life debt I owe you, a villa is nothing,” Caelum said hurriedly. “It’s just… the company’s cash flow is tight. I can’t pull the funds right now.”
He prayed she wouldn’t see his desperation.
A flicker of understanding passed through Aurora’s eyes. “I never expected repayment when I saved you. If money’s tight, the villa can wait. Unfortunately, the Bluemoon’s wealth is controlled by my uncle’s branch; my side has no real power to help with funds.”
Aurora’s empathy eased the weight on Caelum’s shoulders.
*I’m grateful for your support. I’ll fix the company’s problems. One day, I’ll repay you in full,” he vowed, voice thick with sincerity.
He remembered the day a gang had attacked him, stabbing him eight times to protect his tuition funds before dumping him
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in the river.
At death’s door, a fierce grip had pulled him from the water, accompanied by a desperate voice shouting, “Hold on! I will save you!”
That voice–Aurora’s–had been his lifeline.
When he woke in the hospital and learned she was his savior, his heart had sworn an unbreakable oath to repay her, whatever it took.
Her smile now was gentle but firm. “I don’t need repayment. I only wanted you to survive.”
Truth be told, she hadn’t done much more than happen upon him at the riverbank, with paramedics arriving just after her
call.
At the time, it felt like a hassle–but now, seeing the man he’d become, the payoff was beyond what she imagined.
Who would have thought the penniless pup would rise to lead a publicly traded company?
Only one thing remained–a barrier yet unbroken: he still hadn’t finalized his divorce.
After their meeting, Aurora stayed to accompany Eleanor and Giselle on a shopping trip.
If she ever married Caelum, she’d need to navigate the delicate ties with his mother and sister.
At the Song family’s cosmetics chain, Aurora offered warmly, “Take whatever you like I’ll cover it.”
Compared to what she’d taken from Caelum already, a few beauty products were nothing.
Aurora, you’re far too generous,” Giselle praised at once, her tone dripping with admiration.
“Indeed,” Eleanor agreed with an eager nod. “Far better than that Freya Thorne, that’s for certain. If only you were my daughter–in–law instead!”
The older she–wolf seemed to have forgotten–completely–that for the past three years, it had been Freya who had accompanied her to the healer’s den, arranged her treatments, and tended to her needs without complaint.
Aurora’s smile held a note of wistfulness, her silver–blue eyes softening just so. “I’ve always wished my future mother–in–law might be someone like you, Eleanor. But when I returned from the Airborne Wing and crossed paths with Caelum again, he was already bound in mate–bond.”
Giselle leaned forward eagerly, her eyes gleaming. “Just one more week, and when my brother and Freya complete the Lunar Severance Phase, you could finally become my sister–in–law
Aurora’s gaze sharpened faintly. “Caelum is ending his bond with Freya?”
“Of course,” Giselle replied, her voice edged with indignation. “And he’s supposed to give her one hundred million in gold- backed credits. Can you believe it? My brother’s company–SilverTech Forgeworks–is already facing a cashflow strain. He’s been scrambling to raise funds. If he really pays her that kind of money, he’ll have to sell every single share he gave to our mother just to cover it!”
The younger she–wolf rattled on without pause, spilling every detail of the private divorce pact that Eleanor and Freya had drawn up without Caelum’s knowledge.
Aurora’s expression remained thoughtful. The Alpha of the Silverfang Pack might be unaware of this little scheme, but if the separation truly went through, it would mean his bond with Freya could be broken.
A hundred million, though… Aurora felt the sting of it in her chest as if the fortune were her own to lose.
“It’s a pity,” Giselle muttered darkly, “that we couldn’t prove she broke the mating vow. If she’d been found guilty as the erring mate, she wouldn’t be entitled to a single coin.”
Eleanor’s growl was low and bitter. “Exactly. Every ounce of that wealth was earned by my son’s blood and claws, And she— walking away from the bond–dares demand such a sum?”
Aurora’s lashes lowered slightly, concealing the calculating gleam in her eyes. Her voice was calm, but carried the weight of
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suggestion. “There are… ways, Eleanor. Means by which that sum might not need to be paid at all.”
At her words, Eleanor and Giselle’s eyes lit like twin sparks in the dark.
The thought of it hung in the air between them–unspoken but unmistakable–while, outside the manor’s heavy timber walls, the winter wind howled like a hungry wolf circling for the kill.