Ch. 376..380: A Warrior Luna's Awakening Chapter 376-380
Chapter 376
Victor had never imagined that the woman who once pursued him with relentless determination would one day regard him as someone she desperately wanted to escape from. The woman who had fearlessly chased him, unwavering and bold, was now standing before him, her eyes filled with impatience, as if she couldn’t wait to wash her hands of him.
Once, Lana had been the one chasing him, breaking through his guarded walls without hesitation. She had refused to accept rejection, fighting tooth and nail until he finally gave in, until he called her his own. But now, in the dim light of the apartment, she seemed eager to flee, her body tense, her gaze distant.
That realization cut deeper than he cared to admit.
Could her love have been so fleeting?
Had it truly vanished this quickly, leaving nothing behind but cold distance?
The memory that haunted him returned unbidden: Lana laughing among a group of young male models, their toned bodies pressing close around her, one of them—her so-called “friend”—pouring her a drink. The image sent a chill through Victor’s veins, a wave of unease that settled heavy in his chest.
Was this the reason? Had she grown bored of him? Did she see him as outdated, dull compared to those bright-eyed, golden-skinned boys?
“Victor, put me down—” Lana’s voice sliced through his spiraling thoughts, but she cut off abruptly as his lips descended onto the curve of her neck.
It wasn’t a kiss.
It was a bite—an act of punishment disguised as hunger.
“Victor—what the hell are you doing?” she hissed, trying to keep her voice low as he pressed her back against the door. His grip remained firm, unyielding. What had been a gentle cradle transformed into a cage; her feet lifted from the floor, her body trapped between him and the wall.
“What am I doing?” His voice was calm, almost too calm, but his eyes burned with a darker fire. “I’m your boyfriend. Isn’t this what lovers do?”
“Put me down before someone hears—”
“Then hold on,” he murmured, his breath warm against her skin. “Unless you want me to drop you.”
Her breath caught sharply, indignation flaring in her chest. “What do you even want?”
“You really don’t know?” His voice dropped lower, deep and quiet, his body pressing even closer so she could feel the solid heat radiating from him.
Lana stiffened immediately. She sensed the shift—the transformation from controlled restraint to something primal, dangerous.
“Don’t you dare, Victor. Freya’s right outside.”
His lips brushed the shell of her ear. “We’re a couple. I’m sure Freya understands that sometimes couples lose control.”
“Victor, don’t—” she pleaded, cheeks burning with embarrassment. “If there’s anything else you want, anything beyond this, I’ll try to give it to you.”
His eyes gleamed with something fierce. “Anything?”
“I’ll… do my best.”
“Then call me every day,” he said flatly.
She blinked in disbelief. “That’s ridiculous.”
A sharp knock echoed from outside.
“Lana?” Freya’s voice drifted through the door. “Are you in there?”
Lana froze, her heart pounding painfully in her chest.
Victor leaned closer, his breath hot against her neck. “Why don’t we open the door just like this?” he whispered, his hand brushing the doorknob.
“Fine! Fine—I’ll call you every day,” she hissed quickly, clutching his wrist to stop him. Then, raising her voice, she called out, “I—I’m changing, Freya! What’s wrong?”
“Just wanted to tell you I’ll go to SkyVex with you tomorrow morning,” Freya said calmly from the hallway.
“Alright,” Lana replied. “Sleep early.”
“Will do. You too.”
The footsteps faded, leaving silence in their wake.
Lana exhaled shakily, her body trembling—part adrenaline, part anger.
Victor’s voice broke the quiet again. “And another thing. No more hiring male models. No flirting. No pretending you’re single when people ask. If anyone asks what we are, you tell them you’re my girlfriend.”
Her brows furrowed tightly. “That’s a lot of rules.”
“The first one’s reasonable,” he said, a hint of irony in his tone. “But the rest—”
“I can’t cheat,” she added pointedly, “and neither can you. No women. No late-night messages. No ‘work dinners’ with admirers.”
He met her gaze without hesitation. “Deal.”
She blinked, surprised at how easily he agreed.
“Then we’re done,” she said, attempting to wriggle free. “Now put me down.”
“Not yet.” He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply. His voice came out rough. “You smell like you’ve been running from me all night.”
“Victor, stop! You can’t go back on your word—Freya’s in the next room,” she warned, panic creeping in. “If she hears—”
“Then stop talking,” he murmured, voice frayed with restraint. “Because if you don’t, I might not stop this time.”
His tone was raw, low, and dangerous—the sound of a wolf barely holding the leash on his instincts. The air between them thickened, charged with a tension neither dared to name.
It had been years since Victor had felt this way. Years since desire had hit him so fiercely—a rush of heat and hunger so sharp it almost frightened him. He had thought that part of himself was long dead, buried beneath duty, control, and logic.
But with Lana, everything he believed he had buried clawed its way back to life.
The scent of her skin, the pulse fluttering beneath his lips—it was overwhelming. His body responded before his mind could intervene, wild and reckless, as if some primal part of him had been waiting only for her.
Was this madness a symptom of his mind?
Was he broken—unable to want anyone else after she had left him once before?
Or was it simply her?
The woman who could strip him of reason, tear through the armor he had built, and reduce the Alpha to a creature ruled by instinct.
Only her.
She was both his wound and his cure.
The reason he burned—and the only one who could extinguish the fire.
He pressed his forehead against hers, chest heaving, his voice a rough whisper against her lips. “Don’t run from me again, Lana.”
Her eyes flickered, torn between defiance and something softer. “Then don’t give me a reason to.”
Chapter 377
Lana remained perfectly still, too afraid to make a single move.
Victor stood so close that she could hear the faint rasp of his breathing—slow, uneven, barely under control. The tension between them stretched out in the silence until, finally, he released her and helped her back onto her feet.
“Lana,” he said softly, his voice low and rough, almost hoarse, “do you really not like me anymore?”
Her body tensed, and she quickly looked away, her face hardening. “Someone like you, Victor—the Alpha’s chosen heir, the shining star of the Capital’s legal world—how could I ever afford to like you?”
He frowned, confusion flickering across his features. “What exactly do you mean by that?”
A bitter laugh escaped her lips, sharp and short. “It means that men like you have always been surrounded by women since you were old enough to shift. I was just the one who chased you the hardest back then. Maybe you thought I was amusing—a convenient distraction, someone to pass the time with. A shield to keep the others at bay.” Her lips curled in a bitter smile. “Just like now.”
Victor’s body stiffened.
She wasn’t completely wrong. At the beginning of their relationship, that was exactly how things had been.
But now, it was different.
“In this one-year contract we agreed on,” she said evenly, her voice stripped of emotion, “I’ll do everything you want. I’ll be the obedient, convenient girlfriend you expect. But that’s all. I don’t want—or expect—anything more. And from now on, I hope… those things won’t happen again.”
His eyes darkened, shadowed with something unreadable. “Those things?”
Lana hesitated for a moment before pressing her lips together firmly. “Sleeping together. I don’t want to do that anymore.”
Her voice was steady, but her racing pulse betrayed the turmoil inside. Still, she forced the words out. “Once or twice is one thing, but I’m not going to keep going down that road. No matter how good you look, or how tempting you are—it’s not worth losing myself in something so fleeting.”
“You don’t want to be with me?” His tone was low, heavy with anger barely concealed.
“Physical things should only happen between people who truly love each other,” Lana said firmly. “We’re just bound by a contract, Victor. You don’t love me, and I don’t love you.”
He studied her silently for a long moment, then asked quietly, “And if I told you I was willing to love you? Would you love me back?”
Lana stared at him like he’d just told a cruel joke. Her laugh was sharp and humorless. “Victor, don’t do this. If you were capable of loving me, you would have done it years ago—when we were still together. Not now, after everything is over.”
Her smile was bitter and resigned. “Besides, I already told you—I can’t afford to like a man like you, let alone love you. So please, stop pretending.”
Victor’s face hardened, the air between them growing cold and tense like frost creeping over glass. He hadn’t expected to say those words himself, to bare his feelings so openly—and he certainly hadn’t expected her to cut them down so mercilessly.
He remembered years ago when she’d clung to his arm, laughing with those bright, reckless eyes. “Victor, I’m your girlfriend. Can’t you love me, just a little?”
“We agreed—dating doesn’t mean love,” he had replied then, detached and practical.
“That’s fine,” she’d said, determined. “You like me enough to date me. I’ll make you love me one day.”
Back then, he found her naivety almost amusing.
He hadn’t realized that her persistence—the way she filled every silence, the warmth she brought into his cold, calculated world—would linger with him long after she left.
At first, she had been nothing more than a pleasant distraction.
Until she walked away.
Only then did he notice the emptiness she left behind—the way other women failed to capture his attention, the way her name haunted the edges of his mind. He told himself it was pride. Just wounded pride.
But when he saw her again—walking into a hotel with Kade, laughing like she’d never begged him to stay—that’s when the truth hit him.
The jealousy. The sharp sting of it. The realization that he had never truly let her go.
“Don’t forget,” Victor said suddenly, his voice low and cutting, “you were the one who came after me first.”
Lana met his gaze coolly. “And didn’t I already agree to be your contracted girlfriend for a year? I’ll do that much. But when the year is over, I want us to end this cleanly. No mess. No drama.”
“End cleanly?” he repeated under his breath, narrowing his eyes.
She nodded firmly. “Exactly.”
But behind Victor’s calm exterior, something dark and stubborn flared. End cleanly. That was no longer what he wanted. Not when every time he saw her, his control threatened to unravel.
He didn’t say another word. Without another glance, he turned and walked away.
As the door clicked shut behind him, Lana exhaled a long, shaky breath. Her body still burned with the afterglow of his presence, the shadow he left lingering in the room. The air smelled faintly of him—wolf musk, rain, and danger.
Why had he come here so late at night?
Surely not just to see her face.
“Forget it,” she muttered to herself, running a hand through her hair. “Don’t think about it.”
She locked the door behind her, then spun around—and froze.
Freya stood in the living room, her amber eyes locked onto Lana.
Chapter 378
From a Third-Person Perspective
“Freya,” Lana whispered, startled by the sudden movement. “What are you doing awake at this hour?”
Freya tilted her head slightly, a faint glimmer of curiosity in her eyes. “That was Victor Ashford, wasn’t it?”
Lana’s heart skipped a beat, a flush creeping up her neck. “You… you knew?”
“I saw you escort him out of your room,” Freya said calmly, though beneath her composed exterior, her wolf stirred restlessly. “I didn’t want to intrude, but I needed to make sure you were okay.”
Rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly, Lana replied, “He just… stopped by, that’s all.”
Freya raised an eyebrow, her gaze sharp. “You and him…”
“Nothing like that,” Lana hurried to clarify. “It’s just a temporary arrangement—a year of pretending to be a couple. After that, we go our separate ways.”
Freya studied her closely, her eyes searching for any hint of doubt or deception. “And what if he refuses to end it after a year?”
Lana snorted softly, a hint of disbelief in her voice. “Please. He’s Victor Ashford. You really think he’d suddenly fall in love with me?”
Freya said nothing. She understood better than anyone how the future often defied all logic and expectations.
—
The following morning, Lana and Freya arrived side by side at SkyVex Armaments, the sleek, glass-clad company that rose proudly at the edge of the Capital’s industrial district. The sun’s early light reflected off the towering spires, casting long shadows across the bustling plaza.
Freya, already deep into her work, had just returned to the office, where stacks of project files and digital tablets awaited her attention.
“You still haven’t fully recovered,” Lana cautioned gently, concern evident in her voice. “Don’t push yourself too hard.”
Freya, eyes scanning through a series of reports, responded without looking up, “I’ll manage. There are new contracts coming in, and I need to keep tabs on my brother’s situation in the Williams territory. Kade promised to help with the investigation, but I’m not just going to wait for answers.”
As she sifted through the digital ledgers, a particular entry caught her eye. “Hold on… SkyVex is bidding on a drone parts contract with the Whitmor Group?”
Lana glanced up, nodding. “Yeah. It’s a three-way bid scheduled for tomorrow. I’ll be attending with the junior representative—you don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”
Freya’s eyes narrowed. “But drone development falls under my division. If we win, I’ll be overseeing production. I need to be there.”
Lana hesitated, biting her lip. “But… Silas Whitmor will be present.”
Freya’s gaze remained steady, unflinching. “This is business. He won’t make it personal. Besides, this is the Capital—I can’t avoid him forever.”
—
The next day, they arrived at the imposing Whitmor Group tower, its steel and glass façade gleaming in the midday sun. The scent of cold metal and quiet authority lingered in the air, a reminder of the Ironclad wolves’ intimidating presence.
What Freya hadn’t anticipated was running into Parker Williams and his sister Jenny in the same corridor.
Jenny’s face twisted into a sneer the moment she saw Freya. “Freya Thorne,” she spat, her voice thick with contempt. “You’ve got some nerve showing up here. Still clinging to my brother, are you? Didn’t he make things clear the last time?”
Freya met Jenny’s glare with icy calm. “You know exactly who he is—and who he isn’t.”
The insult landed hard. The Williams siblings stiffened, their expressions hardening.
Lana, standing quietly beside Freya, paled. She had met Eric Thorne before, and the resemblance between him and Parker was impossible to ignore. Seeing it up close, the weight of the truth hit her harder than any words could.
“Eric…?” she breathed, barely audible.
Parker’s expression remained unchanged. “My name is Parker Williams.”
“But Freya ran the DNA test—”
“I never took any such test,” Parker interrupted sharply, his tone cold and clipped.
Lana looked helplessly at Freya, understanding the years her friend had poured into searching for her brother—the countless borders crossed, records scoured, whispers chased.
Freya stepped forward, her voice steady but gentle. “You once told me I saved your life—that you’d repay me however I asked.”
Parker hesitated, the hardness in his eyes flickering. “I did.”
“Then come with me,” Freya urged softly. “For the sake of our parents. You don’t have to call me sister. You don’t have to remember anything. But they deserve that much from you.”
For a long moment, silence stretched between them, broken only by the low hum of the tower’s lighting and the subtle shifting of wolves adjusting their stance.
Then, in Parker’s eyes, something flickered—a brief, dangerous glimmer of memory, almost within reach.
Chapter 379
From a third-person perspective
In that moment, Parker’s complexion drained until his face was nearly ghostly pale.
Parents.
The word struck him like a sudden bolt of lightning, searing through his mind. If Freya truly was his sister, then somewhere out there, his parents must exist—or at least had once existed. Yet, she had said to pay respects.
Pay respects.
The phrase weighed heavily on him, implying that they were no longer alive.
His heart faltered, then pounded painfully within his chest—slow and sharp—like something deep inside him instinctively acknowledged a truth his conscious mind refused to accept.
“Where… are they buried?” The question escaped his throat in a rough, broken whisper.
“In Ashbourne,” Freya replied softly, her voice barely above a murmur.
Parker’s mouth opened as if to speak, but no words came out.
“Don’t,” Jenny hissed suddenly, gripping his arm before he could finish. Her tone dropped to a dangerous whisper, audible only to him. “If you go with her now, I swear, I won’t save Lena when we get back home.”
His hand clenched into a trembling fist.
His memories had been wiped clean—everything before the Iron Fang Recon Unit’s last mission erased. Even if Freya’s story was true, even if those people had once been his parents, he had no recollection of them. No warmth, no faces, no trace.
And yet—
His chest ached.
The pain was so intense it felt like his ribs might shatter. Waves of regret, sorrow, and an unexplainable guilt surged through him, each wave stronger than the last.
“The Williams family’s time in the Capital is limited,” he said stiffly, forcing his voice to steady. “I’m afraid I won’t have the chance. Miss Thorne… perhaps you can suggest another way for me to repay you.”
Freya stared at him, disbelief widening her eyes.
“You won’t even pay respects to your parents?” Her voice trembled with emotion. “Do you have any idea what they went through when you disappeared on the border? They waited for years—years, Parker! The last call they made before they… before they died, they were still asking about you. Don’t you think they deserve at least a moment of peace?”
His whole body trembled. The ache in his chest deepened, spreading like wildfire through his veins. Even his wolf stirred uneasily inside him, pacing, growling, confused by a grief that felt older than memory itself.
He fixed his gaze on her, jaw clenched so tightly his words came through gritted teeth. “I told you—I’m Parker Williams. Nothing more.”
Freya’s eyes dimmed. For a long, heavy moment, she struggled to breathe. She wasn’t sure if what she felt was disappointment or grief.
Her brother—the one who had once called their parents heroes, who had joined the military because of them, who had sworn to protect their name—would never have spoken like this.
If the old Parker still existed somewhere inside that man, she thought, hearing their parents were gone would have shattered him. He would have fallen to his knees. He would have gone to their graves without hesitation.
But that man was gone.
“You really don’t remember anything,” she whispered.
Jenny’s voice cut through the tense silence like a poisoned blade. “You look pathetic right now, Freya.” Her tone dripped with scorn. “Your parents—what were they again? Soldiers? Martyrs? Do you really think people like them are worth my brother’s time? Maybe they were so desperate for someone to visit their graves they sent you begging all over the Capital—”
Slap!
The sharp sound cracked through the air. Freya’s palm had already struck Jenny’s face, hard enough to make the other woman stagger back.
Jenny’s eyes widened in shock. “You—how dare you—”
“Why wouldn’t I dare?” Freya’s voice was low, icy, and dangerous.
Her parents’ names were sacred. Untouchable.
They had given their lives for their people, for the packs now sneering behind polished marble walls. They were heroes—her heroes—and no one had the right to insult them.
“My parents,” she said, her voice cold enough to freeze the air, “are not names you get to speak.”
Something shifted in her presence.
Her wolf flared—wild, ancient, silver-gold light flickering behind her eyes. The scent of frost and iron seemed to radiate from her skin.
Jenny froze for a heartbeat. The air around Freya pulsed with dominance—the kind of power born from blood and grief, the kind that made weaker wolves instinctively lower their gaze.
But Jenny was not one to bow to anyone.
She squared her shoulders and spat back, voice trembling with fury, “So what if I talk about them? Your parents raised a savage, didn’t they? Guess that tells me all I need to know about what kind of people they were—”
Bang!
Freya’s boot slammed into Jenny’s stomach. The force sent her flying backward into the gleaming wall of the SkyVex Armaments headquarters. She crumpled to the ground, gasping for air.
Security guards stationed nearby had already started rushing toward them, drawn by the commotion.
“You—you vicious bitch,” Jenny wheezed, clutching her ribs. “You think you can do this to me and get away with it? I’ll make sure you pay for this!”
Freya advanced slowly, her footsteps deliberate, her shadow stretching long across the stone plaza.
Her voice, when she spoke, was soft—but every word was like a razor’s edge.
“Remember this,” she said firmly. “If you ever—ever—speak ill of my parents again, I’ll strike you once for every word. Say it twice, I’ll hit you twice. Say it a hundred times, I’ll break you a hundred times.”
Jenny’s lips curled into a sneer. “You filthy mutt, your parents—”
Freya’s hand rose again, ready to strike, but before she could, a firm hand caught her wrist midair.
It was Parker.
She froze, eyes wide with disbelief.
If the brother she remembered—the real Eric Thorne—were here, he would never have stopped her. He would have hit the girl himself. Harder.
“It’s enough,” Parker said quietly but with authority. “Jenny was wrong to speak that way. But she’s unarmed. You don’t need to hit her again.”
Lana, who had been standing nearby, couldn’t hold back any longer. “Unarmed? Are you kidding me? Freya’s your sister, Parker! Your sister! How can you defend—”
But Parker’s gaze never wavered from Freya.
“Don’t hit her again,” he repeated, a faint tremor betraying the turmoil raging inside him.
For a moment, the plaza fell silent except for the soft rush of wind weaving between the towering buildings.
Freya looked at him, her heart twisting—not with anger, but with something colder, sharper—something like grief. The wind caught strands of her dark hair, carrying the scent of winter pine and iron rain.
If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, she wouldn’t have believed it.
Her brother—her proud, stubborn, fearless brother—now stood between her and their enemy, defending the very girl who had just spat on their parents’ graves.
Chapter 380
Freya’s Perspective
“I’ve told you before,” I hissed, my fists trembling tightly at my sides, the tension in my muscles barely contained. “Every time she disrespects my parents, I’ll strike her once. She still owes me one more blow.”
Parker’s voice sliced through the chilly air, calm yet edged with steel. “I won’t allow you to lay a hand on her again.”
A wild, desperate edge crept into my reply. “And what if I have to?”
“She’s a Williams,” he said firmly, stepping between Jenny and me. “You don’t get to touch her whenever you please.”
His body formed a shield, standing protectively in front of her—never me. For a moment, I felt the air tighten around my chest, breath catching in my throat.
He was doing this for *her*.
The same girl who had spat venomously at our parents’ names.
A fierce, white-hot rage kindled deep inside me, my wolf’s fury rising like a crashing tide, claws scraping beneath my skin. Before I could stop myself, my fist flew forward, crashing hard into his abdomen. The shock jolted through my knuckles, searing into my bones.
“They were our parents!” I shouted, my voice raw with pain and fury. “They gave you life! You know who you are, Parker—I see it in your eyes, I feel it in your soul. How can you stand there, shielding the one who mocked them? If they watch from the Moon’s embrace, if their spirits see this right now, how can they ever find peace?”
My voice cracked on the last word. The world blurred around me, vision swimming with tears I refused to shed.
Even if my brother had lost every memory of himself—even if the Iron Fang Recon Unit’s final mission had wiped his past clean—I could forgive that. I could forgive his confusion, his silence, his denial.
But this… this was unforgivable.
He didn’t block my blow. He didn’t flinch until the pain sunk deep into his gut. I saw the breath leave him in a sharp exhale, but he didn’t retaliate. Didn’t even raise a hand in defense. Instead, he looked at me—his eyes dark, stormy—and for a fleeting moment, I thought I glimpsed a flicker of guilt there.
Jenny’s shrill voice shattered the fragile moment. “You hit him?!” She clutched her reddened face, voice rising with hysterical triumph. “You’re finished, Freya Thorne! The Williams will never let this slide!”
She laughed then, a cruel, victorious sound that scraped against my nerves. “He’s the only son of the Williams patriarch. And you? You’re nothing but a stray from some broken branch of the Stormveil Pack. Do you honestly believe anyone will stand with you?”
Before I could respond, Lana stepped forward, her voice fierce and low, her own wolf stirring beneath her skin like a coiled storm. “You think the Williams intimidate us? This isn’t your Dominion anymore—this is the Capital. Watch your tongue, girl.”
Jenny sneered, undeterred. “And what, that makes it any less true? She hit me! Everyone saw it!” She gestured wildly toward the SkyVex Armaments guards gathering nearby. “You all witnessed it! She attacked me and her so-called brother—go ahead, tell them! Tell them what you saw!”
“Yeah,” Lana spat back, “and they heard you insult her parents, didn’t they? The martyrs of the Legion’s Hall? You don’t think that counts for anything?”
The guards exchanged uncertain glances, caught between us, unsure where to place their loyalties.
One of them, older and more cautious, cleared his throat and spoke carefully. “Miss Thorne… maybe it’s best if you apologize. This young lady—she’s a Williams. Everyone in the Capital knows her family’s connection to the Ironhold Consortium. You don’t want to make enemies you can’t handle.”
“Apologize?” I turned slowly toward him, my voice dropping to a cold, deadly whisper. “To her?”
My eyes locked onto Jenny’s, the wolf inside me awakening again—icy, sharp, fiercely protective. “She doesn’t deserve my apology.”
Jenny’s face flushed a deep scarlet. “You—”
Before she could finish, the rumble of engines filled the courtyard.
A line of sleek, black vehicles rolled to a stop at the entrance, their polished surfaces catching the pale winter sunlight. The guards immediately straightened, forming two precise rows.
The car doors opened.
When he stepped out, my entire body froze.
Silas.
His presence sliced through the air like a blade—elegant, composed, and terrifyingly distant. Clad in black, the same shade as his wolf’s eyes, the Alpha of the Ironclad Coalition—the man whose scent haunted my dreams—stood just a few paces away, yet felt unreachable, like a world apart.
We had been alone together on an island just days ago, close enough to feel the pull of the bond we both tried so hard to deny. And now, he couldn’t even bring himself to meet my gaze.
“Alpha Whitmor!” Jenny called out instantly, her voice soft, sweet, and calculated. She rushed forward, tears glistening in her eyes in a pathetic display. “You have to help us. This woman—she attacked me and Parker right here! We were honored guests of the Williams family, and she humiliated us like this. Surely you won’t ignore it?”
Parker’s jaw clenched tightly. “It was a misunderstanding,” he said quietly.
“Misunderstanding?” Jenny shot him a venomous glare. “She nearly broke my ribs! She punched you! I’ll have a medic examine the injuries—there will be reports. Evidence. And you,” she pointed accusingly at me, “think you can hide behind a last name and a temper?”
Then she turned back to Silas, her voice dripping with poisonous curiosity. “Wait… you’re not protecting her, are you? You and this Freya Thorne don’t have some kind of relationship, do you? That would be… interesting.”
Silas’s gaze finally met mine. His silver-gray eyes were colder than I had ever seen them.
His voice was steady, precise—each word cutting deep. “I have no relationship with her.”
The words landed harder than any physical blow, shattering something inside me.
Jenny’s smile widened, triumphant and sickeningly smug.
“Good,” she said sweetly. “Because she’s about to learn exactly what happens when someone crosses the Williams family in public.”
“Silas,” Lana snapped beside me, unable to keep her frustration in check. “You’re not seriously going to side with them, are you? You know why Freya hit her—what that girl said about her parents—”
“I don’t care to hear it,” Silas said coolly. “Guards, call the police. Let the authorities handle this.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jenny practically radiated with satisfaction. “Perfect. And there’s surveillance, right? Cameras must have caught her attacking me and Parker. That should be enough to prove everything.” She locked eyes with me, smiling like a predator ready to strike. “You’re finished, Freya.”
Parker frowned deeply. “Jenny, that’s enough. Don’t make this worse.”
“Enough?” she snapped back. “I’m your sister, Parker! You’re supposed to protect me, not her.”
The silence that followed was suffocating. Parker froze, his hand twitching at his side, but he said nothing.
I met Jenny’s triumphant gaze, my voice low and steady. “You think this is over? You really don’t understand the laws of the Capital, do you?”
Her smile faltered, uncertainty flickering behind her eyes.
“You just insulted the names of those who died for the packs,” I said, each word burning with quiet fury. “In the Capital, that’s not just an insult—it’s a crime. You mocked martyrs, Jenny. Do you even know what that means?”
Her face paled, but I didn’t relent.
“You think you can hide behind a family name,” I whispered, “but even the Moon Goddess turns away from those who dishonor the dead.”