Ch. 301..305: A Warrior Luna's Awakening Chapter 301-305
Chapter 301
Freya’s POV
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I froze, chopsticks slipping from my fingers and clattering onto the table. My gaze darted to Kade Blackridge, his expression steady yet strangely vulnerable.
“You-” My voice caught in my
throat.
He didn’t flinch. “Freya, do you know what those days in the Iron Fang Recon Unit meant to me? They were the happiest of my life. If you hadn’t married Caelum Grafton back then… I would have told you sooner. I would have told you that I love you.”
My chest constricted, air snagging in my lungs. The words seemed to hang in the dim light of the roadside stall, heavier than the smoke curling from the grill.
Kade Blackridge–the so–called little wolf of the Capital, raised in privilege yet hardened by steel–rarely looked shaken. Yet now, under my gaze, his composure frayed. His breath came unsteady, his body taut with anticipation.
Silas had already torn the veil off this secret earlier tonight. Perhaps that was why Kade no longer bothered to hide it. If he didn’t speak now, he feared he would lose me forever.
“You… like me?” I finally found my voice, but the words sounded foreign, trembling on my tongue. “But you always called me ‘sister.“”
His answer was swift, unyielding. “Does calling you sister mean I can’t love you?”
I had no reply. For years, I had believed he saw me only as family–a comrade, perhaps a guiding presence. Never as anything else.
“Freya, I’ve loved you for years.” His face, sharp–boned and striking, held an earnestness that rattled me to my core.
I stayed silent, and that silence seemed to shake him. He leaned forward slightly, as if afraid I would turn away.
“If it were me,” he said, his voice rough with urgency, “I would never betray you like Caelum did. I would never abandon you as Silas has. I would give you everything I have. I would never let you bleed alone.”
“Kade…” My throat tightened. I forced myself to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry. You’re my my comrade, my brother. But you shouldn’t waste your time on me. Right now, I have no intention of starting over. All I want is to find my brother, Eric.”
friend,
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His jaw flexed. “I know. You’re going to D–country for him, aren’t you? Then let me go with you.”
“No.” The refusal came sharper than I intended. “I’ll
go
alone.”
If I hadn’t known his feelings, maybe I wouldn’t have minded his company. But now? To let him follow me, abandoning his duties, just because of me–it would feel like using him. And I refuse to chain him that way.
“The Embassy and the Iron Fang contacts will assist me. I’ve been to D–country before. I don’t need anyone to hold my hand,” I said firmly. “Besides, I promised Lana I’d send her a message every day. She’ll know I’m safe.”
Kade gave a strained laugh, though no humor touched his eyes. “Even in turning me down, you’re thorough. Ruthless, even.”
“I’m not-” I began, but he cut me off.
“Then I’ll wait.”
I blinked at him. “Wait?”
“Yes.” His tone steadied, like an oath. “You’ve ended things with Silas. So I’ll wait–for you to find Eric, for you to heal, for you to be ready to open your heart again.”
“But Kade, I only see you as my younger brother.” My words felt cruel, but I couldn’t lie.
eyes
His didn’t falter. “Is it because of what I called you all those years? Because I made you think I saw you only as family? Then I’ll stop. No more ‘sister.’ If it helps, I’ll call you Freya, as if your name alone is enough to keep me breathing.”
“That’s not it,” I murmured, shaking my head. My thoughts were a tangle of confusion. “Even if I never plan to start another relationship? Would you still wait, your whole life?”
He smiled faintly, wolfish and stubborn. “Then I’ll wait a lifetime. And maybe, one day, you’ll find yourself loving me back.”
I stared at him, stunned. “Have you considered that maybe this is just misplaced affection? That in the Iron Fang, where we lived on edge and had little contact with the outside world, you confused loyalty with something deeper? That maybe what you feel is just camaraderie?”
His reply was swift, certain. “I know the difference between admiration and love. I’ve had to test it. This isn’t confusion, Freya. This is truth.”
I frowned, unsure what to say.
years
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“Don’t be afraid,” he added, gentling his tone. “If you need space, then we’ll live as before. I’ll call you sister, we’ll spar as comrades, laugh as old soldiers. But when you are ready to love again… just consider me.”
“Kade-”
“Or would you deny me even the chance to stand as a candidate?” His words cut off mine. His gaze bored into me, fierce yet aching. “You don’t owe me anything. I chose this path. If I burn my time loving you, that’s my choice, not your burden.”
My heart thudded painfully.
“Why?” I whispered. “Why me? Aside from those years in the Iron Fang, we barely saw each other during my marriage. Three years gone, and you kept your silence. We didn’t even speak much. Why hold on?”
Chapter 302
Third Person’s POV
Kade leaned back in his chair, his voice carrying the faintest hint of a grin.
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“You really don’t know your own pull, do you? Back in the Iron Fang Recon Unit, half the warriors had their eyes on you. If you’d wanted a mate then, Freya, I swear an entire convoy of suitors would’ve lined up at your feet.”
His words hung in the air like smoke, curling around truths Freya had long ignored. For him, admiration had started as a quiet ember. At first, it had been the way she carried herself— unyielding, disciplined, always the last to falter. That ember turned into heat, then into fire the day she trudged through waist–deep snow, carrying him on her back through a blizzard to reach the medic outpost when his fever had nearly consumed him.
That was the day Kade realized. He didn’t just admire her. He didn’t just want to fight beside her. He wanted her–deeply, wholly, in ways that gnawed at him.
And when news of her sudden marriage to Caelum Grafton spread like wildfire through the packs, that fire in his chest had torn him apart. He had fled abroad, unable to bear watching her belong to another.
For three long years, he had cursed himself for silence, for cowardice, for never claiming her when he had the chance. Now fate had brought her back into his orbit, and this time, he swore he would not let her slip away.
The next morning, Freya made her way to a law office in The Capital, guided there by Kade’s promise. She had asked him the previous night to find her a lawyer. There were debts from the past she intended to settle–chief among them the gifts, jewels, and coin that Caelum Grafton had squandered on Aurora of Bluemoon Pack during their marriage.
Freya had been desperate then, eager only to sever ties with Caelum during the Lunar Severance Phase, but her haste did not mean she had forfeited her right to reclaim what was hers.
“I’ll line someone up for you,” Kade had told her easily. “Show up at the firm tomorrow. They’ll take care of it.”
She hadn’t expected the man waiting for her.
“Victor Ashford?” Freya’s brows arched high when she stepped into the polished office. “You’re the one taking my case?”
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The Capital’s most feared litigator sat before her, exuding calm, lethal confidence. “Yes,” Victor replied, his tone clipped, precise. “Kade already explained the matter. The claim is simple. It will not pose much difficulty.”
Freya hesitated, unsettled. Victor was no ordinary attorney. He was the prodigy who regularly. represented Alphas and consortium heads in the most high–profile disputes of the realm. To have him handle her case was like using a battle axe to cut a loaf of bread.
“You’re far too expensive,” she said frankly. “A minor case like mine doesn’t need someone of your standing. Have your firm assign me to another lawyer.”
Victor’s mouth curved faintly, but his eyes remained cool. “Kade was insistent. You won’t be paying my usual rate. You’ll be charged as if I were an ordinary counsel.”
“That hardly seems right-”
“Call it repayment,” Victor interrupted smoothly. “You carried that boy through fire and snow in the Iron Fang Recon Unit. My family owes you. If I assign your case to anyone else, Kade will storm my office and refuse to let me work in peace.”
The bluntness disarmed her. Freya gave a short, reluctant laugh. “When you put it like that… very well. Thank you.”
They went over the necessary details, the cold mechanics of claim and counter–claim, until Freya rose to leave. She was halfway to the door when Victor’s voice stopped her.
“You’re close to Lana,” he said evenly. “Has she ever told you the real reason she ended things with me?”
Freya blinked at him, momentarily thrown. Of all things she expected, that question was not one of them.
“She hasn’t,” Freya answered truthfully. “Not once.”
Victor’s
gaze sharpened, unreadable. Lana had loved him once–deeply, fiercely, or so it had seemed. Could that love truly have shattered over a single careless remark?
He pressed further. “What about her mate? What sort of man is he?”
“Mate?” Freya’s lips curved faintly, but her eyes revealed nothing. “That’s not for me to say. If you want to know, ask her yourself. It’s her business, not mine.”
Victor’s brows rose slightly, as if measuring her deflection. “So you can’t even tell me what kind of wolf he is?”
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“No,” Freya replied, voice cool as winter steel. “I can’t.”
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Because, of course, Lana had no mate at all. The lie she carried was her own secret to bear, not Freya’s to betray.
Victor let the silence fall. He did not push further.
When Freya left, the faint scent of her Stormveil bloodline lingered in the room. Victor pulled out his WolfComm device and dialed a number from memory. The line clicked, and a familiar voice answered.
“Hello? This is Lana. Who’s calling?”
Victor’s voice was smooth as velvet, hard as iron. “It’s me. We need to talk. About what you did to me the other night.”
There was a sharp intake of breath, followed by a cough on the other end. “What I did? Don’t make it sound so scandalous. We both had our clothes on, Victor.”
“Clothes intact doesn’t mean nothing happened,” he countered, tone edged with challenge. “I’ll be sending you proof of what you did. If you’d rather not discuss it, then we’ll let the courts of The Capital decide.”
He ended the call without another word.
Across the city, Lana Rook nearly dropped her WolfComm in exasperation. She stared at the blank screen, her pulse racing with equal parts fury and dread.
“Proof? What proof?” she muttered to herself. “That arrogant bastard better not—
Her device buzzed again. A new message. She tapped it open.
The video played.
And as the images unfolded before her eyes, Lana’s blood ran cold.
By the time it ended, she wanted nothing more than to slap herself across the face–twice, and
hard.
Chapter 303
Third Person’s POV
The message had come to Lana’s WolfComm device like a curse.
One careless tap, and the screen filled with damning truth.
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The video was raw, grainy, but far too clear. She was there–half–drunk, cheeks flushed, draped across Victor. From the angle, it was obvious the bastard had set his device nearby with the lens trained on them. Every movement, every humiliating slur spilled from her lips, had been captured.
Her hands clawed at Victor’s shirt, sliding down from his face to the hard ridges of his chest and abdomen. Her voice slurred with drink, but the words cut sharper than any blade.
“You… you look so much like Victor Ashford. That face, these abs… mm, let me pay you—just once–let me use you, let me vent!”
Victor’s voice in the video was calm, even mocking. “Vent?”
“Y–yeah,” she stammered, drunken and bitter. “That bastard… he said I was just a way to pass the time. Said I meant nothing. He played me, treated me like a toy. So I’ll play him, just once. But damn it–he’s too strong, I can’t touch him. Come on, handsome, do me a kindness. Let me use you, let me have this, let me end this dream…”
“And you want so badly to ‘use‘ Victor Ashford?” he asked from beneath her.
“Want it? Gods, I dream of it…” she mumbled, tugging his tie loose. With clumsy determination, she wrapped it around his wrists, binding them to the headboard with surprising force.
The screen froze there, the image of his bound hands and her flushed, drunken determination seared into her soul.
The video ended.
Lana’s face flamed scarlet, though she was alone in her apartment. Her hands trembled as she lowered the device. Saints above. So this was what came of drink–shame, evidence, and a noose around her neck.
That night, she agreed to meet him. There was no running, no denying. Victor Ashford had her cornered.
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The private dining chamber was quiet, lined with dark wood and silver fixtures, the sort of place reserved for powerbrokers of The Capital. Lana forced a bright smile as he entered, her pulse thundering beneath her skin.
“Mr. Ashford,” she greeted, voice unnaturally sweet. “Allow me to buy you dinner as… an apology.”
Victor’s gaze was unreadable, sharp as a hawk’s. “So. You’ve watched the video. You think you did wrong?”
Her laugh came out brittle, brittle as glass. “Heh… well… let’s eat, shall we? No point rehashing what can’t be undone.”
She snatched up the menu, desperate for distraction. “Please–order whatever you like.”
Victor took her at her word. His choices were deliberate, and every dish he named was one of the priciest on the list. She felt the sting of it like claws raking across her purse, but what could she say? She was in no position to object.
The food arrived, fragrant and steaming. They ate in silence at first. Lana chewed, her mind racing with strategies, excuses, bargains. The memory of last night was blurred with alcohol, fractured. She couldn’t remember all that she had done. Had she crossed the final line? No. She was certain she hadn’t. When she’d woken, her clothes were intact. Surely nothing irreversible had happened.
Still, her eyes betrayed her. They drifted to him, as they always had, against her better judgment. Watching Victor eat was enough to make her ache in places she refused to name. He was the very image of the noble scion: elegant, composed, carved from restraint itself. His face was sharp, ascetic, yet there was a dangerous magnetism there that only made him harder to ignore.
Beside him, Lana felt like what she was: a woman who had clawed her way up through luck and timing, building SkyVex Armaments into fortune while the winds of the market blew in her favor. To the world she was “Lana, the business wolf.” But compared to him, she still felt small. Petty. A pretender.
Her gaze slid lower, and her breath caught. Beneath the sleeve of his tailored shirt, just above the glittering watch worth more than her car, faint red marks traced the pale skin of his wrist.
Binding marks.
Her eyes widened. Saints. Those were from her. From the tie she had looped around his wrists with drunken determination.
Victor’s voice cut through her thoughts, low and sudden. “What has you staring so intently at
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my wrist? Do you admire the watch?”
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Heat rushed to her checks. “Who cares about your watch? I was looking at those marks.”
She regretted it instantly, but the words were already out.
Victor set down his fork, gaze cool as moonlight. “Then by all means–look closer.”
He slid the watch free, rolled up his sleeves deliberately. The angry red welts stood out starkly against his skin.
Lana’s stomach twisted with guilt. Perhaps she had tied the knot too tightly.
“Sorry,” she muttered, uneasy. Then, with a flash of defiance to cover her discomfort, she added, “But why didn’t you fight back?”
Victor’s eyes darkened with something unreadable. “I was drunk. I couldn’t resist.”
Lana nearly snorted aloud. Liar. He’d been sober enough to set the WolfComm up and record everything. If he’d wanted to stop her, he would have. But she swallowed the retort.
“Last night,” she asked instead, careful, cautious. “After I tied your wrists… what else did I do?” Victor leaned back, his expression infuriatingly calm, like a wolf toying with prey.
“You kissed and touched me from head to toe,” he said smoothly. “Then you picked up a belt and whipped me.”
Lana froze, fork halfway to her lips. Her entire body flushed hot, then cold.
Saints. If that were true–if even half of that were true–then she was in far deeper trouble than she’d imagined.
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Third Person’s POV
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“I used a belt on you?” Lana asked, tilting her head.
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“Yes,” Victor answered, “I should still have marks across my chest. Do you want to see?”
The weight in his tone left little doubt–if she dared to say “yes,” he would strip off his shirt right there in the crowded stall without hesitation.
Lana flushed and waved her hands furiously. “N–no, that’s not necessary.”
Victor leaned back in his chair, watching her squirm with the unhurried patience of a predator cornering its prey. His gaze didn’t waver, the kind of gaze that could pin an enemy wolf to the dirt before a fight.
“So, Lana,” he said, voice deceptively calm, “you mean to tell me you don’t remember what you did to me last night?”
The sharp glint in his eyes sent a nervous shiver down her spine. She shifted uneasily, her pulse thundering in her ears.
“I–I was drunk,” she stammered. “My memory’s… hazy.”
“Then should I remind you?” Victor’s tone dropped, each word rolling out slowly. “Should I spell out, in detail, what you did to me?”
Lana’s stomach tightened. She drew a deep breath, as though bracing herself for a blade. “No need. Just… just tell me what you want. How do you want this settled?”
Victor’s lips curved into a cold smile. “If my mate had done such things to me, it could be called play. Bonded wolves have their own kind of fire. But if you are not my mate…” He paused deliberately, letting the silence drag until Lana’s palms began to sweat. “Then what you did to me could be considered harassment. And I could take this before the Pack Tribunal.”
Her heart skipped. Harassment? Spirits above. The video proof looked damning, and even she had to admit it resembled something of the sort. Yet–he hadn’t fought back. He could have stopped her at any time. Instead, he had allowed her to continue, almost as if… as if he had wanted her to.
“You’re setting me up,” she whispered, half to herself. “You could’ve fought back. You didn’t.”
Victor only chuckled, low and dangerous.
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“I’ll compensate you,” Lana said quickly, desperation edging her voice. “Money. We can resolve this quietly. Just name your price.”
“Compensate me?” His laughter was sharp, cutting through the night air like a blade. “Lana Rook, do you think I need your coin? Do you take me for a beggar scratching at scraps?”
Her face burned. “Then what do you want?”
He leaned forward, his words a quiet snarl. “I want you back. I want us to be together again. If you agree, you can do anything you like to me.”
Lana blinked, speechless. Victor Ashford, a man known throughout the Capital for his rigid honor and sharp intellect–was sitting before her speaking words that dripped with both brazenness and temptation.
“I can’t,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “I have a mate now.”
“Do you?” Victor’s chopsticks clattered onto the table as he set them down, his amber gaze cutting through her like a blade. “If you truly have a mate, I don’t mind if you summon him here. Let him see the footage. Let him know that though you claim him, your body still remembers me.”
“That’s not what this is!” Lana snapped, her wolf bristling beneath her skin. “I was drunk. My mate would understand. He’s not petty like you.”
“Then summon him,” Victor said softly. “But remember–I know how to uncover the truth. If you lie, I will know whether the man you call mate is truly yours.”
Her throat tightened, fury sparking in her chest. “Victor, what are you playing at? What do you want from me? Don’t tell me this is some sudden realization that you love me, years after our bond was severed.”
He didn’t flinch. His expression remained calm, but his words cut deep. “Since you left, I haven’t taken another mate. Not once. My healers say the wound left behind from our severance still shadows me, poisons me. They believe I cannot heal unless I reconcile with you. Unless I return to where it all began.”
Lana froze, stunned. “You–what?”
“Yes,” Victor continued, his voice steady, though his hands clenched faintly on the table. “They say I carry a wound in the spirit. And that only time with you can mend it.”
Her thoughts spun wildly. Healers. Wounds of the spirit. For a fleeting moment, she recalled that despite his high standing, she had never once seen him publicly with another woman. Could it be true?
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“How long?” she asked, her voice low. “How long must I… stay with you?”
“At least a year.”
“A year?” She gaped at him. “Too long. Two months. That’s all I can give.”
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“A year,” he repeated, his tone flat and merciless. “No less. If you refuse, I will pursue this before the Tribunal. And when I do, it won’t just be your name dragged through the dirt. The projects SkyVex Armaments is courting with other Packs will crumble before they even begin.”
Lana’s breath caught, sharp and painful. To be dragged before the Tribunal for harassment–it would destroy her.
With clenched fists, she whispered, “Fine. A year.”
Her wolf growled low in her chest, humiliated. She had no choice. Better to bend now than to shatter everything she had built.
Far from the bustling markets, Aurora lay confined within her family’s estate, resting under strict healer’s orders. The child in her womb was fragile, and every day she stayed in bed, she thought not only of protecting her unborn cub but of finding the means to defend herself.
She needed coin. She needed allies. Most of all, she needed a lawyer strong enough to stand against Caelum Grafton, Alpha of the Silverfang Pack and master of SilverTech Forgeworks.
But the best lawyers refused her case. Those few with the strength to oppose Caelum demanded sums far beyond her reach.
And Caelum himself? He didn’t merely turn his back on her—he struck at her with sharpened claws. Rumor spread swiftly: he would accuse her of stealing fifty million from his personal coffers. If that charge stuck, she wouldn’t just lose her name. She would lose her freedom, shackled in the darkest cells for the rest of her life.
Now, in the SilverTech tower, Aurora faced him.
Once, Caelum’s gaze had burned with desire, admiration, longing. She had been his pride. His
chosen. His Luna–to–be.
But now, those eyes held nothing but ice and loathing.
She stood trembling but unyielding before him in the polished steel chamber that reeked of power and industry.
“Why have you come here?” Caelum asked, his voice sharp, his disdain unmistakable.
Chapter 305
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Caelum did not bother to hide his disdain. His voice was sharp as a blade when he spoke, echoing in the steel–walled chamber of SilverTech Forgeworks.
“Yes. I intend to charge you,” he said flatly. “You lied to me, claiming it was for a funds. verification. Then, using my WolfComm device while my trust was down, you siphoned fifty million credits. Fifty million, Aurora. You knew SilverTech’s chain of resources was already stretched thin. That money was to put out the fire that could burn the whole forge. Instead, you handed it off to that man named Lee. Now those funds won’t return for three moons. Do you have any idea how much damage you’ve caused me?”
Aurora’s breath trembled, but she stood her ground. “I only did it because I didn’t want our bond to break apart. I wanted to preserve what we had.”
Caelum’s eyes narrowed, colder than winter frost on the battlements of the Silverfang stronghold. “A bond? Tell me, Aurora–did we ever truly have one? You scorned me once. Every confession I made, you cast aside as though I were beneath you. Then when I rose- when I became Alpha, when SilverTech thrived–you came crawling back. It wasn’t me you wanted. It was the title. The power. The glory of being Luna of the Silverfang Alpha.”
His words lashed like a whip. Aurora flinched, though she forced herself not to bow her head. Her hand instinctively brushed her lower belly, protectively cupping the fragile life within. “No matter what you think of me, I carry your child now,” she said. “You cannot deny that.”
“Ah, the child.” His voice sank low, dangerous, like thunder before a storm. His piercing gaze dropped to her stomach, hard and cruel. “You haven’t rid yourself of it yet?”
Aurora’s eyes blazed with fury. “This is our child. Of course I haven’t!”
“You’d do best to rid yourself of it,” Caelum snarled, stepping closer, towering over her like a predator closing in on a cornered wolf. “Or don’t blame me when I rid you of it myself.”
Her pulse thundered in her ears. “Never. I will not kill my cub.”
“Then I’ll kill it for you.”
His growl tore through the chamber, and before Aurora could retreat, his boot lifted and drove toward her stomach. She curled instinctively, shielding her womb with both arms. The blow sent her sprawling across the polished stone floor, the air ripped from her lungs in a strangled gasp.
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Pain burned through her body, yet when her eyes lifted to meet his, there was something unexpected in them. A spark of triumph.
Her lips curved into a broken but defiant smile. “Every word you just said… every strike you just gave me… has been recorded. Transmitted straight to my den terminal.”
Caelum froze. His breath caught, the rage in his eyes flashing into alarm.
“You think I would come here unprepared?” Aurora rasped, forcing herself upright, clutching her belly with one arm. Her other hand pointed toward the small leather satchel lying innocently on the table beside them. “That satchel carries a micro–lens. It caught everything. If you don’t withdraw your charges, those recordings will spread like wildfire through the packs. The Alpha of Silverfang, striking a pregnant she–wolf, threatening his own blood. Imagine how the Coalition would feast on that.”
Snarling, Caelum lunged to the satchel, tearing it open. His sharp eyes immediately caught the glint of the micro–device hidden in the seam.
She wasn’t lying.
His fangs bared, fury twisting his expression. “You would use even the life inside you as a weapon against me?”
Aurora staggered to her feet, her body trembling but her voice steel. “And you dare question me, Caelum Grafton? You, who would murder your own cub? Do not speak to me of honor when you’ve cast it away.”
His chest heaved, eyes flickering between rage and something darker–fear of exposure, fear of disgrace. After a long, burning silence, his growl subsided into a venomous hiss. “Fine. I’ll withdraw the charges. But hear me, Aurora–if that recording ever leaks, if it ever touches another’s ears, I will hunt you to the ends of the wilds and end you myself.”
Aurora let out a bitter laugh, clutching her belly as she limped toward the door. “Your threats no longer frighten me. Do what you will. But you’ll never silence me forever.”
The heavy doors of the SilverTech chamber closed behind her. Each step she took was laced with pain, but also with clarity. She had seen the truth of Caelum Grafton at last.
She had once believed his coldness toward Freya Thorne was a moment of cruelty, that he had abandoned Freya because their bond had failed. But now she knew. If Caelum could discard Freya without a second thought, he could discard her too. Alpha or not, savior or not–without leverage, without usefulness, she was nothing to him.
How foolish she had been, believing that bearing his child would bind him to her. That motherhood would grant her immunity. She had believed his bloodline mattered. But it did
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not. Not to Caelum.
He could cast aside a cub as easily as a trinket.
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Later that night, Aurora staggered into the healers‘ ward at Bluemoon’s outpost infirmary. The pain in her abdomen gnawed at her with every breath. She lay back as the healer examined her, her hands trembling as she awaited the verdict.
The healer’s face darkened. “The child lives,” she said at last. Aurora’s heart nearly burst with relief. But the healer’s next words struck her like ice water. “Aurora, your womb is… fragile. If
another.” you lose this cub, there is a chance you may never carry
Her blood ran cold. “What…?”
Before she could process the truth, her WolfComm rang, vibrating harshly in her palm. She answered with shaking fingers.
“My daughter!” Emilia’s voice cried out from the other end, panicked and broken. “The court’s men— they came to the house. They’ve seized everything Caelum ever gave you. The jewels, the gifts–all gone!”
Aurora’s hand slipped. The WolfComm clattered to the infirmary floor, the healer rushing to steady her before she collapsed.
The jewels. Her last lifeline. She had planned to sell them, to use their worth to hire a defender strong enough to face Caelum in the Tribunal.
Now they were gone.
Her final hope stripped away in an instant.