Ch. 296..300: A Warrior Luna's Awakening Chapter 296-300
Chapter 296
She cracked open a fresh bottle and filled their glasses, determination flashing in her tipsy
eyes.
The four of them drank and ate, the sharp edges of tension softening beneath the burn of liquor. Laughter returned, if faintly. After a few rounds, Lana looped her arm around Freya’s shoulders, her own cheeks flushed with heat.
“Silas isn’t worth it,” Lana slurred with fierce loyalty. “Kick him aside. Hell, three–legged toads are rare, but two–legged men? They’re everywhere. We’ll find you a better one!”
“Lana.” Kade’s voice hardened. “Is this really the time?”
“Of course!” Lana declared without shame. She cupped Freya’s face between her palms, staring into her eyes with drunken conviction. “I promise you, Freya. I’ll find one hotter than Silas, sweeter than Silas, someone who’ll worship the ground you walk on–and it’ll burn him alive with jealousy!”
Freya gave a small, weary smile. “I’m not planning on—”
Her words cut off abruptly.
A voice rang from the doorway, low and edged like a blade: “So, Miss Rook wants to parade men before her, for Freya’s choosing?”
Every head snapped toward the door.
No one had seen when it opened, but Silas Whitmor now stood there, filling the frame with the cold weight of his presence.
Freya shot to her feet instantly, stepping in front of Lana like a shield. Her pulse hammered, but her voice was steady. “Why are you here?”
“If I hadn’t come,” Silas replied, his eyes sweeping over the room before landing on Lana with a predator’s chill, “would Miss Rook be lining up candidates for you already?”
The words dripped with contempt. Lana’s drunken haze evaporated in an instant. Sweat prickled down her spine.
Freya’s jaw tightened. “We’ve separated. Even if Lana brings ten men to me, it has nothing to do with you.”
Kade surged forward, placing himself between Freya and Silas. His voice was sharp with challenge. “Silas. You’re not welcome here. You walk out now, or I’ll make you.”
But Silas didn’t so much as glance at him. His eyes remained locked on Freya, obsidian–dark, a
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storm swirling deep within. “Today is my birthday. You promised you’d spend it with me.”
Freya froze, her breath catching.
“Don’t twist her words,” Kade snapped. “You’ve broken apart. She owes you nothing”
“Will you?” Silas asked again, ignoring him, his gaze fastening to Freya’s as though no one else existed. His tone was quiet, deceptively calm–but beneath it ran the fevered edge of madness.
Kade swore under his breath. He raised a fist, ready to strike. “Do you think I’m joking?”
Before his blow could fall, Freya caught his wrist, her grip iron despite her trembling heart. “Enough. I’ll go.”
“Freya-” Kade’s eyes widened.
“I’m not forcing myself.” She released him gently, but her voice was firm. “I promised him. I’ll honor it–just this once.”
The tension in the room stretched thin as a drawn bow.
Lana shivered and edged toward Victor, whispering fiercely, “Why are you just standing there? If those two clash, they’ll bring the whole bar down. Do something!”
Victor’s lips twitched in something like amusement. “And what exactly do you expect me to do? Step between them? I’m more scholar than brawler, Lana.”
She glared at him. He looked every bit the refined wolf, glasses and all–yet the thought of him thrown into that maelstrom was laughable.
Freya stood, lifting her bag in one hand. She turned to Silas, her chin raised though her chest was tight. “Let’s go.”
Without a word, Silas turned and strode from the booth. Freya followed, her steps steady despite the pounding in her veins.
Out in the corridor, away from the others, she halted abruptly. She spun on her heel, facing him head–on, the air between them sharp with tension.
“If I hadn’t agreed,” she asked, her eyes locked on his, “what would you have done?”
Chapter 297
Freya’s POV
I stared at him, my chest tightening when he said it so calmly, so matter–of–factly-
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“Then I’ll stay by your side. And if anyone tries to stand in the way, I’ll deal with them.”
His voice was smooth, unhurried. But his eyes burned with that quiet madness I had almost managed to forget.
Silas Whitmor. Alpha of the Ironclad Coalition. The man the Capital whispered about in low voices—the wolf you did not provoke, because once he marked you as his, there was no undoing it.
For a moment, I pressed my lips together, tasting iron from where I had bitten down too hard. The years I had spent with him had nearly made me forget the truth: beneath the polished restraint, he was lethal, untouchable. 1
“Change the place,” I said softly.
A flicker of satisfaction lit his eyes. “Then we’ll go back to the apartment. I’ve already prepared everything. All that’s missing is you.”
My brows furrowed. “Apartment?”
He tilted his head, almost mockingly. “What, unwilling? Just moments ago you promised to spend the night with me.”
“….No,” I breathed. “Let’s go.”
I walked out of the bar first, the low thrum of music and the scent of alcohol clinging to my clothes. I didn’t look back, but I could hear his footsteps behind me–steady, confident, inevitable.
We drove in silence, the tension between us coiled tight enough to snap. When the car stopped in front of the familiar building, my heart gave a strange lurch.
The apartment.
The place we had once shared a life.
The door opened with a soft click, and when I stepped inside, my breath caught in my throat.
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He had decorated it.
Colorful balloons floated against the ceiling, ribbons draped across the walls. Birthday banners and bright streamers wound through the room like some cruel parody of celebration. And hanging from those ribbons…
Photos.
Dozens of them.
Me and him. Smiling. Laughing. Frozen moments from a life I no longer wanted. In those pictures, my eyes were bright, my smile unguarded. I had once believed in us. I had once believed he could give me forever.
A sharp ache carved its way into my chest. That girl in the photographs hadn’t imagined this ending.
Before I could school my expression, strong arms slipped around me from behind, his chest pressing into my back.
“Look,” Silas murmured, his voice low, almost tender. “We were happy. You can’t deny that. Freya, no one will ever love you the way I do. Come back to me.”
The scent of him—dark musk and storm–ash–wrapped around me, intoxicating and suffocating all at once.
I forced myself to breathe evenly. “We’ve already broken up. If you don’t let go right now, I’ll leave. The promise I made–to spend your birthday with you–will be over before it begins.”
Silas stilled, and for the first time that night, something dimmed in his eyes. Slowly, reluctantly, he loosened his hold.
His lips curved, but the smile was bitter. “I always thought I was ruthless. Turns out you’re the crueler one.”
I stepped away from him, putting distance between us as my heart pounded. Meeting his gaze, I made my voice steady. “What we had is finished. I came tonight only because I once promised you I’d celebrate your birthday with you. That’s all.”
Just that. A final act of closure.
Once, I had pitied him. He had confessed he never celebrated birthdays, not even once. And I… I couldn’t imagine such loneliness. Every year, even if my family couldn’t all be together, there had been gifts, messages, warmth. Love.
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But Silas Whitmor, for all his power, for all his dominance, had grown up with none of it. So I’d promised myself I would change that.
And now… now I was here to give him one last memory before walking away for good.
“Then at least light the candles with me,” he said, moving to the table.
A cake sat waiting there, dark chocolate with pale frosting. He pulled out slender candles, placing them carefully, almost reverently, before striking a lighter.
Flame flickered to life, golden light dancing against his sharp features. For a moment, his eyes softened.
He closed them, clasped his hands, and bowed his head in silence. A wish. A prayer.
When he opened his eyes again, he blew out the flames, smoke curling in the air. His snapped back to me.
“Don’t you want to know what I wished for?”
“No matter what you wished, it has nothing to do with me,” I said firmly.
gaze
His laugh was low, bitter. He picked up the knife, cut a slice of cake, and slid it onto a plate. “Nothing to do with you? My wish was about you, Freya. I wished for you and me to live safely, year after year. I wished you’d take my hand and stay with me until the end. Do you remember, when you once bought me a birthday gift, wasn’t that your wish too?”
My throat tightened, but I shook my head. “That was then. Now, it’s impossible—”
“There’s nothing impossible!” His voice cut across mine, sharp as a whip. He strode toward me, the plate trembling in his hands, his eyes glowing with a storm–mad intensity. “You said you couldn’t trust me because I kept secrets. Then let’s start again. I’ll earn your trust back, piece by piece.”
“Silas-”
“I know Eric’s disappearance still haunts you,” he continued, his voice dropping to a dangerous softness. “Because of my coldness then, your brother is still missing. But I can help you find him. I will help you.”
I froze.
His words sank like claws into the hollow place in my chest where Eric’s name lived.
“My family’s network stretches beyond the Coalition,” he pressed on, eyes never leaving mine.
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“The Whitmors have spics in every corner of the world–yes, even in D–country. You can use your pack’s ties to the Iron Fang Recon Unit, and I can use mine. Together, we’ll find him faster.”
He stopped in front of me, close enough that his breath brushed my skin. His hand lifted, holding out the plate, the small piece of cake a fragile peace offering.
“Freya,” he whispered, “as long as you stop talking about breaking up, you can have all of me. All my resources. All my strength. Every drop of the Whitmor power. Just don’t walk away. Please. Let’s not end this.”
The room was silent except for the faint hiss of the candles‘ smoke.
His eyes locked on mine, unblinking, burning with the desperate devotion of a wolf who would rather break the world than lose his mate.
And in that moment, I realized the truth that made my blood run cold-
He wasn’t asking me to stay.
He was daring me to try and leave.
Chapter 298
Freya’s POV
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I shook my head firmly. “Impossible.” My voice sounded steadier than I felt. “Silas, whatever was between us is over. Trust doesn’t come back just because you say it will. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering which words from you are true and which are lies. And every time I see you…” My throat tightened, the sting in my nose sharp enough to make my eyes burn. “Every time I see you, I can’t stop thinking about what I saw in Eric’s video. I keep telling myself it wasn’t your fault, that you had no obligation to save him. But-”
My voice broke.
“But I can’t do it. I can’t stop seeing it.”
His eyes darkened, his tone harsh and desperate. “Then blame me. Hate me if you must, Freya. Tear me apart with every word, but don’t leave me!”
A bitter laugh scraped my throat. “If that’s all we have left, what’s the point of being together? You’re just clinging to me because you can’t handle the idea of losing. Give it time–this bond will wither. And you’ll see it was never as unbreakable as you thought.”
His gaze locked onto mine, sharp as a predator circling prey. “So you’ve already let go, then? You’ve already cast me aside?”
I clenched my fists tight to stop them from trembling, forced my voice into icy calm. “Yes. I’ve let go.”
A shadow passed over his features, thick with storm clouds. “So you’ll meet other men? You’ll let Lana play matchmaker for you, as if anyone she drags into your life could ever stand beside me? If she dares to introduce you to someone, then I’ll make sure he’s destroyed. I’ll destroy every single one–hell, I could even-”
“Silas Whitmor!” My voice cracked like a whip, cutting through his madness. I glared at him, fury shaking through me. “Don’t you dare lay a hand on my friend. Lana was drunk, she didn’t mean it. And I have no interest in meeting anyone new. But if you so much as breathe wrong in her direction-” My voice dropped into a growl, wolf’s edge sharpening every word. “—I will never forgive you.”
He smirked, cruel and unhinged. “Haven’t you already condemned me, Freya? One more crime on my soul, one less chance for forgiveness–what difference does it make?”
My blood chilled. “So you will hurt her?” My voice was cold enough to freeze marrow.
–
(
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Instead of answering, he picked up the plate from the table, his hand pushing it toward me. “Eat the cake. It’s my birthday cake.”
I stared at him, then forced a deep breath and snatched the plate. I shoved a piece into my mouth, swallowed, then shoved the dish back into his hands. “Satisfied?”
“You think that was enough?” His voice dipped low, dangerous. He lowered his head, scooping a smear of cream from the cake with his lips before I could move. Then, like lightning, his hand clamped around my jaw. His mouth crashed down on mine, sealing me in his madness.
I tried to wrench free, fists pounding his chest, but he only crushed me tighter against him, as if my blows fueled him. Sweetness turned rancid on my tongue as he forced the cream from his mouth into mine.
I struck harder, each punch landing with enough force to bruise any man. And yet, he bore it all without a sound.
Until I remembered–the fingers I had already broken, the damage I had already inflicted. Even half–shattered, he clung to me as though pain was nothing compared to losing me.
My strength faltered. My fists slowed. And then… stopped.
The kiss deepened, rough and consuming. His mouth devoured mine, his teeth grazing, his tongue demanding. He drank me in, as though my resistance only proved the tether between us still held.
His voice, hushed and fevered, broke against my ear. “Freya… you stopped fighting. You still love me. You wouldn’t hold back if you didn’t.”
Something inside me snapped. I shoved him off, my voice raw. “Enough! Do you think this is love? Do you think this is what I want?”
His breath came ragged, his chest heaving. His eyes burned with wildfire, wild and unsteady. “Then don’t seek another man. If you do–if you let anyone near you–I’ll take one for myself. For every man you touch, I’ll claim someone else.”
The madness in his tone clawed at me. The rumors about the Whitmor bloodline–the whispers of their lunacy–suddenly felt too close to truth. His face was all shadow and fury, like a wolf who had lost his mind.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, lips throbbing with pain, glaring at him. “Your birthday’s over. I ate your damn cake. I’m leaving.”
He wouldn’t accept it. I knew he wouldn’t. But time would dull even Silas Whitmor’s obsession. Someday, he would realize what I already knew–some bonds are meant to break.
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I turned, my boots striking hard against the floor as I stormed to the door.
Behind me, his voice rang, dark as a vow carved in blood.
“Freya–remember my words. I don’t make promises I won’t keep.”
The slam of the door was my only answer.
But it didn’t silence him.
The next morning at the Silverfang Tower offices, Lana leaned close to me, whispering like a conspirator. “So… how did it go last night? Did Silas pull anything? He looked completely unhinged when he showed up at the lounge.”
I forced a small shrug, keeping my voice as neutral as possible. “We went back to his apartment. Shared some cake.”
But the ghost of his kiss clawed at my memory–the iron grip of his arms, the fire of his obsession.
And he had been right about one thing. If I had truly let him go, I would never have stopped striking him. I would have fought until he broke.
The truth was bitter and sharp in
I still loved him.
my chest.
Love was never something you could shed like a cloak. Not when the mate–bond’s shadow still lingered in your veins. Not when your wolf still howled for the one you tried to escape.
But knowing I loved him didn’t change the truth.
I couldn’t be with Silas Whitmor. Not now. Not with the blood between us.
Not with Eric’s memory burned into my soul.
Chapter 299
Freya’s POV
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Lana leaned across my desk, her voice low but teasing. “You know, Freya, from the way Silas looked last night, I don’t think he has any intention of letting you go. When I joked about introducing you to someone new, the way he stared at me… spirits, I thought he was going to rip my throat out right there.”
I sighed, shutting the folder in front of me. “He’ll accept it in time. And don’t bother with your matchmaking schemes–I have neither the time nor the heart for it.”
Lana muttered under her breath, “I doubt I’ll get the chance anyway. Kade already warned me this morning–said if I so much as tried to set you up, he’d make me regret it.”
Her words caught me off guard. Kade—always protective, always circling. I pushed the thought aside.
“Freya,” Lana said softly, “are you really sure you can let this go? Silas isn’t Caelum. He’s… different. Caelum was a faithless bastard, yes, but that made it easier to burn the bridge. Silas….” She hesitated, then added, “The way he loves you—it’s savage. Last night, when you agreed to share that cake, I swear I saw the man crack in half at the thought of you refusing. If you had walked away, he would have shattered.”
Her words dug deep. My chest tightened, but I forced myself to keep steady. “When trust is broken, Lana, how can there be any reconciliation? And Silas and I…” I stopped, the name on my tongue sour. “There’s Eric between us. That wound doesn’t heal.”
The realization dawned in her eyes, sharp as a blade. She must have pieced together that something Silas did–or failed to do–had splintered me beyond repair.
I didn’t give her the chance to push further. “Enough about me. What’s going on with Victor Ashford?”
Lana nearly choked on her own breath. “Nothing! Absolutely nothing.”
I arched a brow. “Nothing? Then why was he trailing after you with Kade at the bar?”
you and
Her cheeks flared crimson. “He wanted me to consider giving him another chance. But you know me—I don’t go backward. Once it’s over, it’s over.”
Her words carried conviction, but her scent betrayed a flicker of unease. I knew there was
more.
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And she spilled it soon enough. “Kade left carly, but there were still drinks on the table. I wasn’t about to waste good liquor, so Victor and I… we finished them.” She buried her face in her hands. “When I woke up this morning, I was in his bed. His bed, Freya! Saints above, I thought lightning had struck me.”
I bit down on a laugh. “And?”
“And nothing! Our clothes were intact. Nothing happened.” She dropped her hands, looking horrified. “But still–never again. Never will I drink like that again. Especially not with Victor.”
I couldn’t help it–I laughed outright. “Lana, your face is bright red.”
She snapped back to attention, glaring at me. “Mind your own business!”
Before I could tease her further, my WolfComm buzzed. The caller ID flashed across the
screen.
Kade.
I answered. “Kade?”
“Freya,” his voice rumbled low, familiar and steady. “Are you free tonight? Last night I barely had a word with you before you left. Join me for dinner. Just the two of us.”
A thousand excuses rose on my tongue, but I swallowed them. I needed to speak with him anyway, about Eric’s case, about the legal routes I hadn’t yet explored. “Fine,” I said. “Tonight.”
“Good. Any place you’d prefer?”
“Somewhere close. I don’t care where.”
“I’ll send you the address,” he promised, and the call ended.
The message came through moments later. The restaurant was near Lana’s company, an easy drive from the Stormveil district.
When evening fell, I slid into my car and drove across the city, the skyline of The Capital blazing against the twilight. The restaurant was quiet, elegant, tucked away from the usual noise. Kade had already arrived, seated with his back to the wall, eyes sharp as a hawk’s.
“Freya,” he greeted, standing as I approached. Always a soldier, always precise.
We sat. He didn’t waste time. “You spent last night with Silas. He didn’t hurt you?”
I gave a small laugh. “You sound exactly like Lana. No, Kade, he didn’t.”
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He hesitated, jaw tight. “Then… you’re truly done with him? With Silas Whitmor?”
“Yes,” I said, the word clipped and final.
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Relief washed over his face, loosening something in his stance. I hadn’t realized how tense he’d been until that moment. The thought struck me–had he been waiting for this? Hoping for it?
“Then there’s hope,” he murmured, almost too softly. His gaze lingered on me, heat burning behind his calm mask. “The past is dead, Freya. What’s broken can be replaced. The next man
you down.” in your life will be better. He’ll never betray you. Never let
I stared down at the menu, his eyes too heavy on me. “Maybe. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that my luck in love is cursed. Caelum, Silas… both disasters. I’m done chasing bonds. All I want now is to find Eric.”
“Do you have a lead?”
“Yes. A fragment, but enough to follow. I need to go to Drenovia. There’s someone there who might know where he is.”
His brows knit. “Dangerous ground.”
“I don’t care.”
Before he could reply, a voice carried across the dining hall.
“Whitmor Alpha, this way, please!”
The words hit like a blade. My entire body went rigid. Whitmor Alpha.
There was only one man in The Capital who bore that title.
I looked up, heart pounding.
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Third Person’s POV
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Silas strode forward, his presence sharp as a blade slicing through the restaurant’s polished calm. The wolves trailing behind him faltered, uncertain, then followed quickly, unwilling to be left behind.
“Well, isn’t this a coincidence?” Silas’s voice carried across the table, cold and mocking. His gaze pinned Freya like a hawk spotting prey. “You spent last night with me on my birthday, and tonight you’re dining with someone else?”
Kade rose at once, stepping between them, shoulders broad, blocking Silas’s advance. “Silas, she can be with whoever she wants. That’s not for you to decide.”
“No right?” Silas’s eyes narrowed, his irises flashing with a dangerous gleam that betrayed his wolf simmering beneath the surface.
“You two have already broken up,” Kade shot back, his voice taut with restrained fury.
Silas’s lips curled into something close to a snarl as his gaze slid past Kade and landed directly on Freya. “Broken up? I never agreed to that.”
Behind him, the wolves who had followed stiffened. Their expressions shifted uneasily. His words weren’t something they should be hearing–not from the Alpha of the Ironclad Coalition.
There had been rumors, of course–gossip from Ashbourne and whispers carried by couriers -that Silas Whitmor had taken a lover. But few in the Capital truly believed it. After all, Silas was infamous for his coldness, for keeping women and weakness at arm’s length.
Kade’s jaw tightened. “Whether you agreed or not doesn’t matter. Freya wants it ended. That means it’s ended.”
The tension rippled through the room, thick as smoke.
The wolves at Silas’s back shifted uneasily. Sweat beaded on some foreheads. Silas Whitmor was dangerous on his own. But Kade Blackridge–the infamous young wolf of the Capital, known for his rebellious streak and iron fists–was no less formidable. And now the two stood
nose to nose.
Worse still, Silas’s supposed mate, the woman at the center of this storm, was the very one Kade openly called his “sister.”
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But Kade was an only son. Where had this sister come from?
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Silas’s laughter came sharp, humorless. “So what’s your plan? She leaves me, and then she runs into your arms?” His words dripped contempt. “Kade, don’t delude yourself.”
Kade froze. The barb struck deep. His fists clenched at his sides. He had never confessed. Never dared. Time and circumstance had stolen every chance. And now, with Freya finally freed from Silas, he had thought–perhaps–he could wait for the right moment.
But Silas had ripped that secret from his chest, exposing it raw.
“Silas, don’t push this too far!” Kade’s fury snapped loose. He swung, his fist aimed straight for Silas’s face.
But Silas Whitmor was not a wolf to be caught unaware. He met the strike with his own, bone meeting bone in a thunderclap. In an instant, the two wolves collided–violence spilling into the restaurant.
No one dared interfere. The staff froze. Other diners shrank back. Everyone knew: to step between these two would be suicide.
The clash was brutal. Tables shook. Plates clattered. Their wolves snarled beneath their skin, itching to break free, to tear and rend.
And then-
“Stop!”
Freya surged forward. Her hand struck Kade’s arm, knocking his blow off course. In the same motion she spun, placing her back to Kade, her front to Silas. Her palm pressed against Silas’s fist, halting him.
“This isn’t the place for a fight,” she said firmly, voice steady despite the storm swirling around her.
Silas’s gaze burned into hers, shadowed by a dangerous flicker of jealousy. “You’d shield him? When he’s the one who struck first?”
“He’s my friend,” Freya replied, unflinching. “Of course I’ll protect him. Silas, whatever happens between us, don’t drag Kade into it.”
“Friend,” Silas echoed, lips curling into a cold, mocking smile. He leaned down, closing the space until his breath stirred her hair, his voice pitched so only she could hear. “Then he’s only a friend. Remember what I told you last night, Freya. Don’t forget it.”
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He straightened abruptly, lowering his fist. “If you don’t like me fighting, then I won’t fight. If you don’t want to see me, we’ll take some space. But breaking up-” his Alpha’s vow carrying a weight like chains-“I will never allow it.”
Turning, he barked to his entourage, “We’re leaving.”
eyes darkened, his
“Yes, Alpha!” They rushed to obey, relief flashing in their eyes as they followed him into the shadows of the hallway.
Freya watched his broad back vanish. Her chest tightened, not with longing but with a heavy, weary resolve. He wouldn’t accept it. A clean break was impossible. Perhaps, then, only silence and time could wear him down, cooling the fire until nothing remained.
“Don’t worry, Freya.” Kade’s voice came rough with suppressed emotion. “If Silas dares use force on you, I’ll tear him apart myself.”
“He won’t go that far,” she answered quietly. Her gaze hardened. “And even if he tried, I’m not the kind of woman who submits without a fight.”
Still, the stares from nearby diners burned like fire. Every ear in the restaurant had caught some fragment of their confrontation. Too many eyes, too many whispers.
“We should leave,” she said.
Kade nodded.
They slipped out, the cold night air biting sharper than the tension they had left behind. This time, instead of another glittering restaurant, Kade steered her to a roadside stall, where steam rose from skewers and the smell of roasted meat cut through the chill.
“It reminds me of when we were in the Iron Fang Recon Unit,” Kade said with a half–smile, his tone softer. “On leave days, we’d sneak out for food just like this.”
Freya chuckled, shoulders loosening for the first time that evening. “I never expected you, a pampered heir, to survive the Iron Fang’s training. Let alone enjoy roadside meals.”
“The truth is,” Kade murmured, watching her profile in the glow of the stall’s lantern, “I never expected it either.”
He hadn’t expected to survive. He hadn’t expected to change. And above all, he hadn’t expected to fall for her.
But every chance to tell her slipped through his fingers. Every time he was a step too late.
One step late… always one step late.
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And now, with Silas Whitmor still looming like a shadow, he wondered if he had already lost. for good.
“Don’t take his words to heart,” Freya said suddenly, her tone gentler now.
Kade’s eyes
flicked to hers. “Which words? That I should stop dreaming about being with you?” His lips quirked, bitter. “What if I do take them to heart? What if I care?”
His voice carried a raw honesty, more wolf than man, stripped of every wall he had built around his heart.