Ch. 316..320: A Warrior Luna's Awakening Chapter 316-320
Chapter 316
Chapter 316
Third Person’s POV
:–
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The man snatched the bills from Kade’s hand before speaking. “Five years ago? A homeless man? Who would care about that? But most of the street people around here come from the industrial compounds nearby. If he didn’t die back then, chances are they pulled him back in. But it’s been five years… if he survived back then, he probably didn’t make it now.”
Freya’s chest tightened. Her mind immediately went to the compounds, the so–called “industries” tucked behind high walls and security gates. She knew too well what happened inside. These places weren’t lawful–they were breeding grounds for crimes that ordinary people couldn’t imagine. The thought of Eric having been dragged into one of these compounds, subjected to whatever horrors they inflicted, made her stomach twist with anger and fear.
Could it be true? Had her brother truly escaped from one of these compounds, and was his weakened state a result of torture endured there? The thought clawed at her, gnawing on every instinct in her wolfish heart.
They questioned several more locals, but the answers were similar–fragments of rumor, pieces of history like splintered bone. Each story hinted at a truth too cruel to name.
On the drive back to their hotel, Freya kept her eyes on the city lights streaking past. “I need to figure out a way to get into one of the compounds, see if I can learn anything,” she said quietly.
“Too dangerous!” Kade snapped, voice low and edged with frustration. “This isn’t home. Those compounds? They operate beyond the law. You can’t just walk in there like it’s a street market.”
Freya considered it, jaw tight, mind racing. “Then we’ll go to the casinos. Most of them are run by people tied to the compounds. Their staff are often connected–if anyone knows anything, it’ll be there.”
Kade relaxed slightly, though the tension in his shoulders didn’t ease entirely. “Alright. Tomorrow, we’ll go.”
Freya hesitated. “I… my money hasn’t fully transferred yet. Some of it is still back in The Capital. Might not arrive tomorrow.”
Kade smiled, wolfish and confident. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll handle it. Tonight, get some rest. Tomorrow, the casino will take every ounce of energy you’ve got.”
She nodded, watching him, the weight of everything pressing down on her. “Feels like I owe you more and more every day.”
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“Talk about owing,” Kade said, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “If we’re keeping score, I owe you more. Remember when we were in the field, the snowstorm? You carried me to the field hospital. If you hadn’t, my fever would’ve fried my brain. I wouldn’t have come out the other side sane.”
From that day, Kade had opened his heart to her, piece by picce, letting her in, letting her see the wolf beneath the human mask. Now, every instinct in him was alert, determined not to miss this chance. Not again.
They returned to the hotel and dined quickly in the restaurant, the air thick with anticipation and unspoken tension. Once back in their rooms, Freya paused, turning to Kade. “Come to my room first. I have something to discuss.”
Kade inclined his head, following her silently, a predator moving with cautious grace.
Meanwhile, in the hotel’s security room, Silas Whitmor sat on a black leather sofa, eyes fixed on the screens. The grainy footage of the hotel corridor displayed Freya and Kade walking side by side. When they entered Freya’s room together, Silas‘ fingers curled, tightening on the armrests of his chair.
“Alpha, Kade and Miss Thorne have separate rooms. Maybe they just need to talk. Kade should be out soon,” Wren, his secretary, offered nervously.
“Is that so?” Silas murmured, eyes narrowing into sharp slits. The screens reflected the dim light of the corridor, but his mind raced. If Kade didn’t leave tonight… if Freya and Kade–his thoughts were abruptly cut off by a surge of icy rage.
Time stretched in the surveillance room, every second weighing like stones in Silas‘ chest. The air grew taut, oppressive, as Wren watched his jaw tighten, the predatory gleam in his eyes sharpening into obsession.
After more than an hour, Kade finally emerged from the room. The footage showed him bending slightly, as if speaking into the room, while a hand lifted to rest against his neck. The camera couldn’t see inside, only Kade’s upper body framed in the doorway.
But the position was intimate–too intimate. Wren’s eyes widened. Miss Thorne… and if this was true, Silas‘ reaction would be catastrophic. The tension in the room was palpable, a storm coiled and ready to strike.
Later, back in the safety of her room, Freya inspected Kade’s neck, noting the redness that marred his skin. “It’s probably a mosquito bite,” she said, handing him a soothing balm. “Put this on, it’ll calm it down. This time of year, the mosquitoes here are vicious.”
“Thanks,” Kade said, rubbing at the irritation briefly. “You rest early tonight.”
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“You too,” Freya replied softly. She closed the door behind him and moved to the bathroom, the reflection in the mirror showing a wolfish focus, determination flashing in her amber eyes. Tomorrow they would probe the casino, following the faint scent trail her instincts told her to
pursue.
If luck didn’t reveal anything, her next step would be to access the casino’s networks, and perhaps even breach the compounds‘ systems. Every ounce of her pack instincts was focused, every thought sharpened to a blade of purpose.
As she began her nightly routine, the sudden chime of the room doorbell startled her. Her ears pricked; every muscle in her body tensed. Kade, perhaps, had forgotten something–or perhaps, fate was testing her instincts once again. Either way, Freya’s wolf senses screamed vigilance.
She approached the door slowly, the shadows of the room stretching across the floor like the teeth of predators waiting to strike.
Chapter 317
Freya’s POV
I froze the instant I opened the hotel room door. Standing there, like a shadow I hadn’t expected, was Silas. My heart skipped. What on earth was he doing here?
Before I could even think, he charged into the room, slamming the door behind him. In one swift motion, he pinned me against the wall, his presence overwhelming.
“Why has Kade been in your room so long? What did you do with him?” His voice was sharp, urgent, and desperate–a stark contrast to the cold, calculating tone I was used to hearing from him.
I frowned, instinctively bracing against his imposing frame. “Are you… watching me?” I asked, disbelief sharp in my voice.
“I saw the hotel corridor footage,” Silas said, eyes dark and intense. “Tell me, what have you and Kade been doing?”
I bristled. “What I do with him isn’t something I need to tell you.” My hands pressed against his chest, pushing. I wanted to shove him back, put space between us, and breathe without his heat closing in.
But my attempt barely budged him. He pressed harder, lips capturing mine with a possessive ferocity that stole my breath. Panic surged through me, claws of instinct scraping at my mind. I tried to wrench away, but my fingers brushed the brace on his hand.
I hesitated. If I struggled too hard, I could probably push him off–but I’d risk hurting his hand. The thought stopped me.
I forced my head to the side, breaking free of his kiss. “Silas, what are you doing? We’re already
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“We broke up? That’s your decision. I never agreed to it.” His lips were relentless, shadowing mine, a storm of insistence.
I bit my lip, tasting him, the faint metallic tang filling my senses. “I’ve already said it… breaking up is something one person can decide–ugh, stop!”
I could smell him, feel him, and the air between us grew suffocating, dangerous.
I did the only thing I could think of. I bit him, hard, sinking my teeth into his lower lip. Blood spread warm and metallic in my mouth. He paused for a fraction of a second–long enough
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for the scent of it to swirl around us–but he didn’t let go. Not until the coppery taste grew overwhelming did he finally pull back.
“You’re insane!” I spat, glaring at him.
“Freya… if you truly don’t want me, I’ll lose my mind.” His voice was low, hoarse, almost a growl.
I stayed silent for a heartbeat, steadying my racing pulse. Then I said, “Let go of me. I need to rinse my mouth.” The blood was sharp, too strong, and my senses–wolf senses sharpened by instinct–craved relief.
He finally released me. I pushed past him, feeling the tension in the room like, static, and went straight to the bathroom. I rinsed my mouth three times, each swish of water dulling the lingering blood, until the taste was almost gone.
When I returned, Silas was sitting on the sofa, eyes fixed on me, burning and relentless. The place on his lip where I’d bitten still glistened with deep red. My hand instinctively went to the tissues on the table.
“Here,” I said, holding them out. “Wipe it off.”
He tilted his head back, eyes imploring, and I froze. The expectation in his gaze was sharp, raw, and unrelenting. My throat felt tight. Refusing him now felt like breaking something delicate inside him.
I exhaled softly, taking the tissue. My fingers brushed his skin as I cleaned the blood from his lip, careful but firm. “If you ever try a stunt like that again,” I said, tone low and dangerous, “I won’t forgive you.”
His amber eyes flickered, a wild shadow of the rage that had consumed him a moment ago. knew what had driven him–Kade. My wolf instincts sensed every flicker of possessiveness, every coil of jealousy tightening in him.
“Sorry,” he murmured, voice subdued but tense.
I
I finished cleaning his lip and stepped back. “It’s late. I’m going to bed. You should
go
too.”
“No, you haven’t told me. What were you and Kade doing in that room?” His voice sharpened. again, possessive and dangerous.
“We were just discussing finding Eric,” I said, tone neutral. I didn’t want to spark unnecessary
conflict.
“Then why at the door earlier… did you kiss him?” His gaze drilled into me, sharp as wolf teeth.
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I stared at him, dumbfounded. “I kissed Kade? Are you kidding?”
His taut expression softened slightly, relief flickering in his eyes. “Good. I’m glad you didn’t. I don’t know what I would have done if you had.”
I frowned, irritation prickling. “Don’t drag Kade into this.”
“Then don’t fall for him,” Silas said, eyes darkening with raw emotion. “Freya… I finally understand. My jealousy is worse than I imagined. Worse than anyone could describe… like the stories they tell about the Whitmore Pack. Like a mad wolf hunting its own tail.”
I stared at him, heart racing. “I only see Kade as a little brother. But no matter what, you not hurt him. If you do, I will not let it go.”
will
The warning in my voice was clear, unflinching. My eyes, wolf–like and amber in their intensity, locked onto his. Every instinct screamed for him to understand–I would protect Kade with my life if I had to.
Silas‘ jaw tightened, nails digging into his palms. My warning seemed to resonate; his body tensed, the air around him charged with the remnants of his earlier storm.
“For Kade…” I said softly, letting the words hang in the charged space between us. “He’s important to me. Do you understand?”
He exhaled slowly, his wolfish pride and fire simmering down into something more manageable. “Fine,” he murmured, finally. “I promise. As long as you haven’t fallen for him, I won’t hurt him.”
Chapter 318
Third Person’s POV
Freya exhaled slowly, pressing her back against the hotel room wall. She didn’t want to escalate things with Silas. The last confrontation had been enough to remind her just how dangerous he could be when provoked. Even though their relationship had technically ended, the threat. of his wrath lingered like a shadow.
Silas had said it himself: if he ever truly lost control, no one could predict what he might do. The thought was unnerving, yet Freya also knew that much of it was hypothetical–potential threats that hadn’t happened yet. Still, the weight of them pressed against her chest.
“D–country isn’t safe,” Silas said suddenly, his voice low but firm. “If you run into trouble, you need to contact me immediately.”
Freya’s amber eyes narrowed as she studied him. “Why are you here, Silas?” she asked, curiosity and wariness warring in her mind.
Silas‘ gaze softened, though it was still intense. “If I told you I was searching for Eric, would you believe me?”
Freya’s heart skipped. Even after she had chosen to step away from him, he had continued sending operatives to track leads in D–country. And once he remembered seeing Eric Thorne here years ago, the country had become a focal point of his search.
Freya tilted her head, thinking. “Near where Eric was taken, thrown aside… did you send anyone to ask the locals about him?”
“Yes,” Silas replied, “but nothing useful came up.”
That explained the reactions she had encountered today when questioning the nearby residents–someone had been asking questions before.
“What about the employee rosters from the factories nearby over the past five years? Have you checked those?” she asked, a spark of hope igniting.
Silas‘ lips pressed into a thin line. “I have. But Eric’s name doesn’t appear anywhere.”
Freya’s chest tightened. He had already researched the exact areas she had been planning to investigate next.
“If you want, Wren can send you the electronic copies of the rosters,” Silas offered.
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“Thanks,” Freya said softly, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly.
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He hesitated for a moment before speaking again, his voice measured. “You can continue your search, but avoid dangerous arcas. No matter how capable you are, a single wolf can’t fight a pack of wolves. You understand what I mean, don’t you?”
Freya met his gaze steadily. “I understand. I care about my safety more than anyone. I need to survive this–to be reunited with my brother. I owe it to my parents‘ memory to treasure the life they gave me.”
Silas finally nodded, as though accepting her words. When he left the room, Freya let out a long breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She hadn’t expected him to show up in D- country, but there was no denying that his presence had saved her a lot of effort.
Her mind flickered back to the storm of moments earlier–the ferocity in his kiss, the warning laced in every word. A shadow crossed her amber eyes. Perhaps she was right–love was
up chaos. dangerous, and even a breakup could stir
She wondered if Silas could truly spiral into madness, like the stories whispered about the Whitmore Pack. She thought of Cassian Whitmor, Silas‘ father, a man whose brilliance had twisted into erratic behavior after his mate passed away. Silas had confided once that his father had become a different being entirely after that tragedy–a wolf lost to grief, teetering on the edge of madness.
But Silas wasn’t his father. Their time together had been brief, mere months. Even if his love for her burned fiercely now, it would naturally cool with time. He wouldn’t become a mad wolf because of her.
Glancing at her WolfComm, Freya dialed Lana Rook. She needed to hear a familiar voice, someone she trusted.
“Freya! Why are you just calling now? I was about to call you,” Lana said, her tone both relieved and exasperated.
“Silas came by my room earlier, so I was delayed,” Freya replied.
“Silas? Here in D–country too?” Lana’s surprise was audible.
“Yes,” Freya confirmed.
“Don’t tell me he followed you
here.”
“Perhaps it’s business. The Whitmore family has some cooperative projects here,” Freya said cautiously.
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gasped.
“Lana? What’s wrong?” Freya asked, alarmed.
aupuy,
“Nothing… just saw a cockroach. Made me jump,” Lana muttered, a hint of embarrassment in her tone. “I’ve got to go, something’s come up.”
Before Freya could respond, Lana’s attention snapped to someone behind her–Victor Ashford, his presence bold and dangerous. The marks on her neck were unmistakable; no mirror was needed to see the evidence of his feral affection.
“Victor, what are you doing?” Lana demanded, shoving him lightly.
“Why is it that you can kiss me, but I can’t kiss you?” Victor countered, arms encircling her waist as he drew close. Their noses nearly touched.
Lana rolled her eyes, utterly exasperated. That wasn’t a kiss–he had been biting and sucking, leaving a trail of proof behind.
“I kissed you to help, Lana. Bringing me to the club–wasn’t that to protect you from unwanted attention? You can’t deny Velda’s intentions toward you. What you’re doing now- turning on me–is ungrateful,” Victor said, fingers brushing over the dark red mark blooming on her neck.
Lana’s cheeks flamed crimson. Memories of youthful recklessness and obsession came rushing back, old lessons paid back with interest in this present moment. The wild, stubborn fire of youth had returned with Victor’s touch, igniting frustration and embarrassment in equal
measure.
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“Just… stay safe, okay?” Lana’s voice softened, her concern palpable. Then, abruptly, she gasped.
“Lana? What’s wrong?” Freya asked, alarmed.
“Nothing… just saw a cockroach. Made me jump,” Lana muttered, a hint of embarrassment in her tone. “I’ve got to go, something’s come up.”
Before Freya could respond, Lana’s attention snapped to someone behind her–Victor Ashford, his presence bold and dangerous. The marks on her neck were unmistakable; no mirror was needed to see the evidence of his feral affection.
“Victor, what are you doing?” Lana demanded, shoving him lightly.
“Why is it that you can kiss me, but I can’t kiss you?” Victor countered, arms encircling her waist as he drew close. Their noses nearly touched.
Lana rolled her eyes, utterly exasperated. That wasn’t a kiss–he had been biting and sucking, leaving a trail of proof behind.
“I kissed you to help, Lana. Bringing me to the club–wasn’t that to protect you from unwanted attention? You can’t deny Velda’s intentions toward you. What you’re doing now- turning on me–is ungrateful,” Victor said, fingers brushing over the dark red mark blooming on her neck.
Lana’s cheeks flamed crimson. Memories of youthful recklessness and obsession came rushing back, old lessons paid back with interest in this present moment. The wild, stubborn fire of youth had returned with Victor’s touch, igniting frustration and embarrassment in equal
Chapter 319
Third Person’s POV
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Victor’s voice resonated through the room, low and teasing. “And tell me, do you really think my kiss was ungrateful?”
Lana’s jaw tightened, her fingers clenching. “Don’t think that just because you’re attractive, you can do whatever you want!” she snapped.
Victor arched an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “So… you admit I’m good–looking?”
Lana froze, unable to argue. No matter how much she criticized him, she couldn’t deny that Victor’s sharp features, those wolfish eyes, and commanding presence made him almost hypnotically appealing.
“Enough, Victor. You show up at my door late at night–what do you want?” she asked, exasperated.
She had been alone, quietly staying in her apartment, when the unexpected ring of her doorbell had announced his presence. The moment she opened the door, Victor had wrapped her in a bear hug, pressing his weight against hers, and said in that intoxicatingly calm voice, “Let me hold you just for a moment. That’s all.”
Perhaps it was the exhaustion laced in his tone, or the way his head rested lightly against her shoulder as if she were his only anchor, but she had faltered. For a fleeting moment, she allowed him to embrace her, forgetting the caution she usually wielded like armor.
But ten minutes had passed. Ten long, heated minutes, and he still hadn’t let go. Victor had even walked into the apartment proper, insisting on a cup of tea before leaving. And just moments ago, while she had been talking to Freya on WolfComm, he had left unmistakable marks on her neck–pressing, sucking, and biting, marking her as his.
“Boyfriends don’t need a reason to visit their girlfriends,” Victor said, as if that alone justified everything.
“That doesn’t mean you have to leave bite marks on my neck! We’re not even a real couple. I’m only helping you confront your… issues,” Lana shot back, trying to reclaim some semblance of control.
Victor’s lips curved into a mischievous smirk. “Helping? This is part of the therapy. Doctors recommend a bit of intimacy between partners to relieve psychological shadows,” he said, leaning closer, his golden gaze locked on hers.
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Lana’s eyes
…
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widened in disbelief. “That’s… impossible! No doctor would ever advise that!”
Victor didn’t falter. He pulled out his phone and navigated to his contacts, quickly finding the doctor’s number. With deliberate care, he slid the phone across the table toward Lana. “If you doubt me, you can call the doctor yourself.”
Lana blushed, flustered by his persistence. “You… don’t need to go that far,” she murmured.
Victor smirked but withdrew the phone. “Any other questions?” he asked, voice deceptively calm.
She hesitated, then asked bluntly, “This… intimate therapy, how intimate does it get? Surely it doesn’t involve… sleeping together?”
Victor’s gaze flickered with a shadow of amusement. “What about you? Do you want to?”
Lana shook her head decisively. Sleeping together was out of the question. Victor had always been like a rare, exquisite candy from her youth–sweet, addictive, tempting–but indulging came with consequences, with lingering pain. She had tasted it before, and she would not suffer that torment again.
Victor’s eyes lowered slightly, masking a flash of disappointment. Once, this woman had been eager, coaxing him into the intimacy he hadn’t even sought, and yet now she rebuffed him so decisively.
“Don’t worry,” Victor said after a pause, regaining his composed demeanor. “I don’t force anyone. Even with these ‘therapeutic‘ gestures, I always ask for consent first. Hand–holding, hugging, kissing…”
“No kissing!” Lana snapped immediately.
“Why not?” he asked, his curiosity genuine.
“It’s too… intimate,” she admitted, cheeks burning.
Victor’s smirk deepened. “Then how come when you kissed me that night at the club, it didn’t feel too intimate?”
Lana froze, words failing her.
Victor’s voice softened, almost instructive. “Lana, a kiss without emotional attachment is just skin–to–skin contact. No different than holding hands. It only matters if you have feelings for me.”
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“I… have no feelings for you!” she replied quickly, a mix of frustration and defiance in her tone.
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“Then we’re clear. Any more questions?” Victor asked with a composed, almost predatory ease. Lana groaned inwardly; arguing with him felt futile. A lawyer’s mind paired with wolf instincts made him nearly untouchable in debates.
The next day, Freya and Kade arrived at the casino, blending into the crowd with calculated casualness. They changed some of their chips to avoid drawing attention, strolling through the bright, bustling gaming floors, occasionally tossing a few into roulette wheels or poker tables.
Early that morning, Freya’s WolfComm had buzzed with a message from Wren: the personnel rosters of the nearby factories over the past five years had been sent. Each name came with a corresponding photograph–a massive convenience. Silas‘ foresight in providing this information would make her investigation today far more efficient.
With the rosters in mind, Freya scanned the casino carefully. Many of the factory employees had transitioned to working at the casino–some as waitstaff, some as security, and others as minor operators. If Eric had ever been in the factory, perhaps his trail could be traced through one of these employees.
After a few rounds of casual gambling, Freya’s amber eyes settled on one of her primary targets a female casino employee listed in Silas‘ dossier. She had been working at the factory for years before transferring here two years ago. If anyone had knowledge of Eric’s movements, she might be the key.
Freya muttered to Kade, “I’m going to the restroom.” He nodded silently, understanding her plan.
She followed the target cautiously. The woman walked steadily down the hallway, but when she reached the elevator area, her steps faltered. Her gaze lingered on the small group gathered near the elevator doors–strangers, perhaps, but the intensity of her stare suggested recognition, suspicion, or fear.
Chapter 320
Freya’s POV
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I froze mid–step, following the direction of the woman’s gaze. My heart hammered, a wild drumbeat echoing through my chest. Then, as if on cue, the elevator doors slid open with a smooth, mechanical sigh. Standing at the forefront, the first figure to emerge stepped into the dim lobby light.
My eyes caught him. Just a glimpse of his side profile–and my entire world seemed to pause. Every nerve in my body screamed, every blood cell seemed to burn as if stoked by an invisible fire.
Eric. It was Eric.
I blinked, unable to move for a fraction of a second, before my instincts, as primal and sharp as my wolf senses, took over. I bolted toward the elevator.
“Wait!” I shouted, my voice cutting through the murmur of the casino floor.
But two security personnel stationed by the elevator moved to block me, their stance firm, professional.
“Don’t stop me!” I growled, the words barely human in their intensity. My claws flexed against the air, and I struck. One man went down with a grunt; the other hesitated only for a second before I lunged past him.
The elevator doors began to close. Panic struck like icy water. I had only seconds–and I had to see him. His face, framed by the warm lighting of the elevator, stared back at me. But it was calm, almost indifferent, like he was looking at a stranger rather than his own sister.
Could I have been wrong?
The man I had glimpsed–a tailored suit, an air of authority, confidence radiating from every line of him–looked… different from the memory I had of Eric. Older, more mature, like the years had sharpened him into someone I barely recognized. But that didn’t matter. Whether it was him or not, I had to know.
I watched as the elevator descended to the ground floor, my heart hammering against my ribs. Without a second thought, I raced for the stairwell, each step pounding like a drumbeat in my chest, carrying me down toward the lobby.
When I burst into the main hall of the casino, I saw him–Eric, flanked by a few associates, moving with calm authority, exiting the casino. My wolf snarled, raw instinct urging me
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forward. I couldn’t let him leave–not like this!
But then I heard it: the sharp, authoritative bark of command.
“Block her! She assaulted our personnel!”
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A dozen security guards swarmed toward me. Their movements were precise, trained, coordinated–no ordinary group could match them. My claws flared, my muscles tensed, and I met them head–on. Blows were exchanged, bodies collided, the floor beneath me a blur of motion.
I didn’t notice the chaos of the floor around me, my attention fixed on Eric, now moving out of my line of sight. Despair clawed at me. Was I about to lose him again? If this was a mistake, if he wasn’t truly Eric… would I ever see him again?
Before I could answer, a heavy punch struck my shoulder. I staggered, instinctively twisting to deflect a follow–up strike–but another blow came from behind.
BANG!
The impact never came; Kade was there, his presence a shield as his hands intercepted the attack meant for me.
“Freya! What the hell is going on?” Kade’s voice was calm but sharp, his wolf instincts flaring in sync with mine.
“I… I saw him,” I hissed in my native Stormveil dialect, words rushing out without translation. “Eric. I saw Eric.”
Kade’s brows knit together in comprehension. He wasn’t from Stormveil, but during our time in the Iron Fang Recon Unit, he had picked up enough of the dialect to understand snippets. He grasped immediately why I, usually cautious and measured, had leapt headlong into a firefight with trained security personnel.
The guards lunged again. Kade’s hands slipped into his pocket and retrieved a sleek, black metal card–the casino’s mark of authority, a symbol of untouchable status.
“It’s a misunderstanding,” he said smoothly, stepping into my line of fire.
“One misunderstanding doesn’t excuse breaking the rules!” the lead security officer barked. “Take them down!”
I growled low in my throat, muscles tensing, but Kade held me back with a firm hand. My wolf senses were screaming–Eric was already gone, mingled with the crowd outside.
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Then, a voice cut through the chaos like a blade:
“Even if they’re my people, you’d still take them down?”
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Silas Whitmor. His presence dropped over the casino like a shadow, commanding attention without moving. Every guard froze, uncertainty flashing in their eyes. The air grew thick with tension, the subtle metallic tang of wolf energy prickling my senses.