Ch. 386..390: A Warrior Luna's Awakening Chapter 386-390
Chapter 386
Freya’s Perspective
When Parker finally broke the silence, his voice came out rough and strained, as if he had been dredging up words from the depths of a frozen lake.
“I… there’s someone I have to save,” he rasped. “Jenny can save her.”
I stood still, caught off guard.
For a moment, the fierce forest-wolf inside me paused, my breath caught halfway in my chest. Flashbacks of old intelligence reports raced through my mind—the fragments of information I had painstakingly gathered about Parker’s disappearance, the mysterious woman in D-land who had aided his survival, the one who had followed him to C-country after the Williams Family took him in.
A woman whose health was failing. A woman whose name…
“Freya?” Parker’s brow furrowed as he noticed my sudden silence, confusion flickering in his eyes.
My voice was barely above a whisper. “The person you need to save… is it Lina?”
A faint, painful smile tugged at the corner of his lips—not the confident grin of the brother I once knew, but something fragile and worn. “Yes. I have to save her.”
I wasn’t shocked. Not really. If Parker had found out years ago that I’d taken a sample of his DNA for testing, he would have guessed I’d dug deep into everything—his past, his timeline, the handful of people closely connected to him.
Lina was one of those people. A woman in long-term care, her condition deteriorating. And now…
“How do you think Jenny can save her?” I asked cautiously. “Jenny isn’t a healer.”
Unless—
The realization hit me like a sudden wave.
“Jenny’s stem cells match Lina’s.”
It wasn’t a question.
“It’s a match,” Parker confirmed quietly. “If Jenny gets kicked out of the Williams Family, if anything happens to her… Lina dies.”
Silence settled between us, heavy and suffocating, thick with unspoken emotions.
Eventually, he let out a slow breath. “You wanted the truth. That’s it. It’s late. You should rest.”
There was nothing more to say.
We climbed out of the car, found rooms at a small roadside inn, and slept fitfully for a few restless hours.
At dawn, I stepped outside just as Parker approached, holding two small bouquets of pale yellow mountain daisies.
I blinked in surprise.
He shrugged, an embarrassed smile flickering across his face. “I can’t show up empty-handed.”
Them.
Arthur Thorne and Myra—our parents.
Even without his memories, something primal stirred in Parker’s wolf whenever I mentioned them. The night before, when I told him they had died three years ago during an overseas mission, and that I had gone alone to retrieve their ashes, the grief that swept over him wasn’t a product of memory.
It was instinct. Deep in his blood.
And guilt.
So heavy it weighed down his shoulders like cold iron.
I said nothing, unlocking the car door.
We drove in silence toward Ashbourne Legion’s Hall of Martyrs.
The morning air was sharp and biting, mist curling low around the aged stone memorials. As we stepped onto the sacred grounds, the scent of pine mingled with the earthy aroma of old stone and a faint trace of lingering moon-magic. The atmosphere was solemn, ancient, and strangely comforting.
I carried my flowers; Parker carried his.
We stopped before the twin markers—Arthur and Myra. Our parents. Warriors of the pack. Heroes.
I took a steadying breath. “Dad, Mom… I brought Parker.”
My voice trembled despite years of training to control it.
“He’s alive. He’s lost his memories, but I believe he’ll remember everything someday.” I gently laid my daisies on the grave. “You can rest easier now.”
Beside me, Parker stared at the black-and-white etchings of their faces—stern, proud, unyielding. The kind of wolves who had forged the Iron Fang Recon Unit, who raised children to stand tall even when the world crumbled around them.
For years, Parker had believed he was alone.
But here was the undeniable truth, carved in stone.
And I saw something within him fracture—quietly, without a sound, but forever.
He turned toward me. Then back to the gravestones. Then—
“Dad. Mom.” His voice broke. “I’m back. And… I’m sorry.”
I spun to face him sharply. “What are you apologizing for?”
“For not coming back sooner,” he whispered. “For not being here with you—” His gaze shifted between me and the graves. “—when you went to bring them home.”
His eyes flickered with pain.
Suddenly, he dropped to his knees, his spine straight, shoulders squared like a soldier presenting arms.
Then—
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Three deep kowtows—forehead pressed to cold stone, the echoes ringing through the silent hall.
Instinctual. Ritualistic. Born of the wolf.
I swallowed hard.
After a long moment, Parker rose.
“And I’m sorry,” he added, voice rough, “that even though someone slandered Mom and Dad… I still have to protect her.”
Jenny.
He waited, almost bracing himself, as if he expected me to call him a monster.
I turned back to our parents’ memorial, then looked at him.
“Lina saved your life,” I said softly. “Repaying a life debt… I get that. I’ll talk to Silas about dropping the charges. I might be able to get the police to dismiss the case.”
Parker’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’ll try?”
“Lina saved you,” I said firmly. “That means she saved our family. I want her to live too.”
Relief washed over him, but confusion followed. “But… Silas. You really dated him?”
“I did,” I admitted simply. “After the Lunar Severance Phase with Caelum ended, I… tried again. With Silas.”
I no longer flinched when I said Caelum’s name. That chapter was closed—ashes scattered to the wind.
Parker stared at me. “You were with him?”
“Briefly,” I said. “But it’s over. For good.”
He exhaled slowly. “If Silas won’t listen to you… I’ll find my own way.”
“I’ll still try,” I assured him. “But it might not work. And…”
Conclusion
The weight of the past and the uncertainty of the future hang heavily between Freya and Parker, yet beneath the shadows lies a fragile thread of hope. Their shared grief for their parents and the unspoken bonds of family begin to bridge the chasm that memory loss and betrayal have carved. In this quiet moment of vulnerability, they find a tentative understanding—one that acknowledges pain but also the possibility of healing, forgiveness, and protection for those they hold dear.
As dawn breaks over the sacred grounds, Freya’s resolve to fight for Lina’s life and Parker’s quiet acceptance of his role within their fractured family hint at a new beginning. Though the path ahead is fraught with obstacles and lingering doubts, the chapter closes with a gentle promise: that love, loyalty, and courage will guide them through the darkness, binding their fragmented hearts in the hope of reunion and redemption.
Chapter 387
Freya stood motionless, her breath caught in a tangled web of sorrow and remorse as she faced the cold stone emblem marking the final resting place of her parents within the Ashbourne Legion’s Hall of Martyrs. The early morning wind swept harshly across the cliffside memorial, carrying with it the faint, metallic scent of ancient battles and sanctified blood that lingered like a ghost from the past.
Her eyes dropped to the carved runes etched deep into the stone, bearing the names of Arthur and Myra—her father and mother—valiant warriors of the Stormveil Pack’s Fifth Branch, steadfast guardians of the northern frontier.
Her voice was barely a whisper, yet the pain threaded through it cut sharper than any blade she had ever known.
“I’m sorry… for everything. And I’m sorry, Mom and Dad.”
Despite the venomous slurs hurled by Jenny Williams against her parents, despite the relentless efforts of the Williams girl to drag her family’s honor through the mud, Freya found herself bowing her head in quiet submission, forced to endure the weight of disgrace alone, pleading for a peace that tasted bitter and hollow on her tongue.
It was a humiliation she neither deserved nor wanted.
Still, she knelt there, shoulders heavy with the burden, isolated in her grief.
When Freya and Parker finally emerged from the Hall of Martyrs, the sun was already dipping behind the jagged ridges, casting long shadows across the landscape. Together, they made their way to their armored WolfComm rover, preparing for the long journey back to The Capital.
Halfway along the winding forest road, Parker’s communicator buzzed sharply with the unmistakable triple-pulse signal of a Williams Family priority call.
He answered without hesitation.
Moments later, the color drained from his face, his expression tightening with unease.
Ending the call, Parker turned to Freya.
“Everett… he wants to see us as soon as we get back to the city.”
Freya blinked, surprise flickering in her eyes. “Us?”
“Yes,” Parker replied, his face unreadable. “He wants to see you, too.”
A low growl stirred beneath Freya’s skin, her wolf responding instinctively to the tension, a cold fire igniting in her veins. Yet she inhaled deeply, forcing herself to remain composed.
“That’s fine. I was going to meet him eventually.”
Her gaze sharpened as she looked at Parker. “But what about you? Which identity will you present to Everett? Parker or Eric?”
Parker was silent for a long moment, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him.
When he finally spoke, his voice was steady but carried the heaviness of old wounds.
“Back then… the Williams matriarch saved my life. Without the treatment she arranged, I wouldn’t have survived more than a month. My illness was too far gone.”
Freya listened quietly, shadows from the forest flickering over his face.
“But later,” he continued, “the old matriarch became convinced I was Everett’s son. Maybe because when Everett was young, he and I looked almost identical.”
Freya’s brow furrowed sharply.
“But you’re not. A single blood test confirmed that.”
“Yes,” Parker said, tightening his lips. “The Williams Family knew the truth. All of them. But no one dared tell her. She had already lost her daughter years ago. Her mind… it wavers between clarity and confusion. Revealing the truth would have shattered her completely.”
Freya exhaled slowly, absorbing his confession.
“So you became Everett’s illegitimate son,” she said quietly.
Parker nodded once.
“I agreed to it. The Williams Family saved me—I owed them that much. Until the matriarch’s final breath, I remained Parker.”
And later, when Lana fell ill, when the medical expenses piled relentlessly, when he needed the Williams resources—he clung even tighter to that identity.
Only now did Freya truly understand why her brother refused to reclaim the name Eric Thorne, despite the DNA evidence proving otherwise.
Why he continued living as Parker Williams, even though it tore at him from within.
By the time their rover rolled into The Capital, night had fully descended, wrapping the towering skyscrapers and skybridges in a cool silver glow under the moonlight.
Inside the penthouse suite’s grand receiving hall, Everett awaited them.
The man embodied the rumors perfectly—cold as a blade kissed by winter, yet encased in the polished grace of a seasoned statesman. He stood before the panoramic window, city lights shimmering off the runic bands encircling his wrists.
When Freya stepped inside, Everett turned slowly toward her.
“So, you are Freya,” he said, his voice calm but sharp. “I heard what happened in D-country—that you saved Parker’s life and took a bullet for him. I’ve wanted to meet you ever since.”
Freya lifted her chin, her wolf’s gaze steady, unwavering.
Up close, Everett bore an uncanny resemblance to Parker—especially in the eyes. Anyone would have assumed a father-son connection.
But truth remained truth.
“I didn’t save him for your family,” she replied firmly. “I saved my brother. That’s all.”
Everett’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Your brother?”
“You know very well,” Freya said without hesitation, “that he is Eric—son of Arthur and Myra. My brother.”
Everett’s gaze shifted toward Parker.
“And you—do you present yourself as Eric or Parker?”
Parker drew a slow, steady breath.
“I am Eric Thorne. Son of Arthur and Myra. Brother to Freya.”
He placed a hand over his heart. “Even without my memories, this truth remains unchanged.”
Everett’s expression darkened perceptibly.
“So you intend to live as Eric.”
“I will repay what I owe the Williams Family,” Parker said with quiet resolve. “Until the matriarch’s last breath, I will remain Parker in her presence. But only in hers.”
Freya’s chest tightened at his words.
He had pieced together fragments of his past through her—snatches of childhood, moments of laughter and loss—and once the truth settled within him, he could no longer force himself to live as someone else’s son.
His parents had died still searching for him.
They had left this world carrying that sorrow deep within their bones.
Everett’s fingers clenched tightly around the prayer beads he carried.
“Only in her presence? So outside, you would openly reclaim the identity of Eric?” His voice sharpened. “Do you think she lives in isolation? The moment you take back the Thorne name, she will know.”
“Then we will find a way,” Parker said softly. “Some method… to assure her I am still Parker. For her sake.”
Everett’s eyes flicked to Freya.
“I had hoped,” he said, lowering his voice, “that you would accept the Williams Family’s gratitude. We can offer you fifty million credits—a small token of thanks. But if you refuse…”
His tone shifted—smooth as velvet, yet as sharp as a predator’s fang.
“…then things may become far more complicated.”
Florence
Florence is a passionate reader who finds joy in long drives on rainy days. She’s also a fan of Italian makeup tutorials, blending beauty and elegance into her everyday life.
**Chapter 388**
**Freya’s POV**
The pulse of my heart echoed like a war drum behind my ribs as Everett Williams raised his hand.
With a single, deliberate motion, the atmosphere within the grand Williams estate shifted, the shadows themselves seeming to grow darker and more menacing. From the dimly lit stone hallways emerged a dozen enforcers, their broad shoulders and combat-ready stances exuding an air of authority and intimidation. Each of them was steeped in the unmistakable scent of Silverfang steel and unwavering loyalty.
And just like that, they surrounded me.
The wolf within me surged to the forefront, its instincts bristling just beneath my skin, ready to defend, ready to fight.
I refused to take a step back.
Parker’s voice, laced with alarm, broke through the tension beside me. “Everett, what are you doing?”
Everett’s expression remained largely unchanged, his scholarly facade—gentle voice, calm demeanor—cracking just enough for the predator lurking beneath to surface.
“I’m merely demonstrating,” he said softly, “how effortlessly the Williams Family can eliminate a problem when the need arises.”
The intensity of his kill intent radiated from him, cool and calculated, like a blade poised at the throat, ready to strike.
I swept my gaze across the encircling guards, feeling the weight of their presence, before meeting the cold, calculating eyes of the so-called head of the Williams Family.
“So, this is your resolve? You truly intend for Parker to be stripped of his name forever?”
“You misunderstand my intentions,” Everett replied, his tone deceptively light, almost compassionate. “I simply protect what is dear to me—my mother and my sister.” His eyes gleamed with an icy devotion that bordered on obsession. “For them, I would raze cities to the ground. I would obliterate entire Packs. I would sever bloodlines. So, I advise you not to test my patience, child.”
Child.
The term struck a chord within me, a bitter irony.
Because the heat surging in my chest felt anything but childish; it felt like the unyielding Stormveil blood that refused to bend, to crawl, to submit.
“You have people for whom you would lay down your life,” I said, my voice steady, almost soothing. “I understand that. Truly. But I have the same.”
My breathing became more measured, the Wolf within me mirroring that steadiness. “You want Parker to repay the Williams Family’s debt? Fine. But not by erasing his very essence. Not by forcing him to live a life cloaked in a false identity.”
“Reasonable words,” Everett remarked, his tone dismissive. “But tell me—”
His gaze swept over me, a flicker of disdain evident.
“—what qualifications do you believe you possess to negotiate with me?”
Qualifications?
A smile crept onto my lips.
And in that moment, I acted.
I surged toward him, propelled by explosive speed honed through my rigorous training with the Iron Fang Recon Unit—a speed that took the Williams guards by surprise, especially from a woman who bore the scent of the Bloodmoon Pack’s diplomatic branch.
They rushed at me, dozens of boots echoing against the polished stone, their bodies colliding with mine in a chaotic frenzy.
Parker reached out, desperation etched across his face, but three guards swiftly restrained him, pinning him down with brutal efficiency.
I didn’t look back.
I fought.
Not for victory; that wasn’t my goal.
What I needed was a path.
So I exchanged blows recklessly, every step fueled by my wolf’s ferocity and my own simmering rage. My left shoulder ripped open, an old wound beneath my jacket bursting forth, hot blood cascading down my arm, but pain was a distant thought in this moment.
One guard fell. Then another.
I slipped between two more, evading a strike, driving my elbow into a throat, and continued my relentless advance.
My vision narrowed to a tunnel.
My wolf howled in exhilaration.
And then—I broke free.
Everett’s eyes widened in shock as I lunged forward, wrapping my arm around his throat, locking him in a chokehold that was both precise and powerful. His guards froze, instincts screaming at them not to make a move.
Everett himself appeared momentarily stunned, caught off guard.
I tightened my grip.
“Now,” I panted, “am I qualified to speak?”
He exhaled sharply, a sound devoid of humor. “You dare to hold me?”
“If I truly wanted to harm you,” I replied, my voice steady, “you’d already be on the ground.”
He didn’t argue.
Yet beneath his calm facade, I sensed a simmering anger—sharp and toxic—waiting to erupt.
“You move one inch,” one of the guards warned, voice laced with menace, “and we won’t let you leave this place alive!”
“I said I will release him.”
And with that declaration, I did.
At the very moment my free hand shot downward, ripping the pendant from around Everett’s neck.
A chain snapped.
An old, oval locket landed in my palm.
In an instant, the expression on Everett’s face transformed.
The man who had threatened to bring the world to its knees now stood frozen, fury draining the color from his knuckles.
“That,” he growled, a low, dangerous tone, “is not something you can touch. Return it.”
But I had already opened the latch.
A faded photograph stared back at me—a girl, perhaps three years old, her bright eyes shining as she smiled shyly at the camera. The edges of the picture were yellowed with age, a relic of the past—no copies, no backups, no digital scans.
3/5
It was a once-in-a-lifetime photograph.
The only one that remained.
“Don’t—” Everett’s voice cracked, raw and desperate. “Don’t you dare damage that. I warn you— for my sister, I will hunt you to the ends of this earth.”
His sister.
The one who was missing.
The ghost that the Williams Family still whispered about in hushed tones.
And this—this fragile photograph—was his last tangible connection to her.
In that moment, clarity washed over me.
I closed the locket gently and lifted my gaze to meet his, the weight of understanding heavy in the air.
“You cherish your family,” I said softly, my voice steady. “Good. Then hear me when I say this.”
I stepped closer, blood still dripping from my shoulder, my wolf snarling fiercely beneath my skin.
“Eric is the only family I have left. My father, Arthur Thorne, and my mother, Myra, died without ever finding him. Their ashes rest in the Ashbourne Legion’s Hall of Martyrs, and the last wish they had in this world was to bring their son home.”
Everett’s jaw tightened, the muscles visibly clenching.
“For my family,” I continued, my voice unwavering, “I can be just as ruthless as you.”
A profound silence enveloped the hall.
The guards remained motionless.
Parker held his breath, the tension palpable.
Even the air felt thick with the scent of iron, blood, and the impending clash of war.
I tightened my grip on the chain.
“You threaten me, Everett? Then understand this perfectly: I am not prey. I am not disposable. And I will not break.”
My voice dropped to a chilling whisper.
4/5
“If you’re willing to destroy everything for the people you love—then know this: so will I.”
The wolf within me lifted its head, eyes blazing with fire.
And in that moment, Everett finally understood that Stormveil wolves were never meant to kneel.
Chapter 389 of “Shadows of Our Love,” Freya finds herself in a tense confrontation with Everett, a powerful figure from the Williams Family. In a moment of adrenaline-fueled defiance, she throws a pendant necklace at him, signaling her refusal to be intimidated. Despite her injured state, she quickly grabs her brother Parker and makes a hasty exit from the hotel suite, narrowly avoiding the guards thanks to Everett’s commanding presence. The chapter captures Freya’s determination and bravery as she navigates the dangers surrounding her.
Once outside, the atmosphere shifts to one of concern as Parker notices Freya’s reopened wound. Despite her attempts to downplay her injury, the bond between the siblings is palpable, with Parker expressing his worry for her well-being. Freya’s response to his concern reveals a deeper emotional connection, as she reassures him of her strength while also acknowledging their shared history. The scene highlights the themes of familial loyalty and the instinctive bond that persists even through trauma and memory loss.
As they seek medical assistance, Parker reveals his own struggles, particularly his commitment to help Lina, who remains in C-Domain. This moment of vulnerability allows Freya to empathize with him, showcasing her understanding of the burdens that come with family ties. Parker’s resolve to embrace his true identity as Eric adds another layer of complexity to their relationship, hinting at his desire to reclaim his past while also forging a new path.
The chapter culminates in a poignant moment of reconnection between Freya and Parker, where they share a familiar gesture that evokes memories of their past. Freya’s insistence on maintaining their bond, despite the challenges they face, reinforces the theme of resilience in the face of adversity. Meanwhile, Parker’s interactions with Everett reveal an unexpected emotional depth, as Everett grapples with his feelings toward Parker, recognizing the young man’s potential and strength.
In the end, the chapter encapsulates the struggle between personal identity and familial duty, as both Freya and Parker confront their pasts while navigating a complex present. The emotions are raw and layered, illustrating the intricacies of love, loyalty, and the fight for self-acceptance amidst the shadows of their intertwined lives.
Continue Regular Chapter Reading Below
**Shadows of Our Love: Chapter 389**
Freya took a step back, her heart racing, as she hurled the pendant necklace toward Everett. The chain glimmered in the dim light of the hotel suite, a fleeting spark against the shadows, before it landed squarely in his outstretched palm. She didn’t linger to gauge his reaction; the adrenaline still coursed through her veins, her muscles quivering from the recent confrontation, and the pain of her reopened wound pulsed ominously beneath the tattered fabric of her shirt. Without a second thought, she turned on her heel, grasping Parker’s wrist with a firm grip, and propelled him toward the exit.
The guards of the Williams Family instinctively shifted, their bodies coiling like springs ready to pounce, but Everett raised a hand, his authority radiating from him like a palpable force.
“Let them go.”
Even in her injured state, Freya could sense the weight of his command, an Alpha’s voice that brooked no dissent. The guards parted, allowing her and Parker to slip past them, the heavy door of the suite closing with a definitive thud behind them.
Once they stepped into the hotel’s main lobby, a stark contrast to the tension they had just left, Parker’s voice broke through the air, thick with concern. The lobby was bright and polished, the fragrance of imported wolfsbane flowers mingling with the cool air, a strange comfort amidst their chaos.
“Freya, your shoulder—your wound’s reopened. You’re bleeding too much. The concierge desk should have basic medical supplies. We need to stop the bleeding now.”
“It’s nothing serious,” she replied, attempting to brush off his worry, even as blood trickled down her arm, warm and dark against her skin. Her wolf stirred restlessly within her, a reminder of her strength, even as it craved peace. “I’ll heal.”
“How could I possibly not worry?” Parker’s voice trembled, the weight of his concern evident. “You’re my sister.”
Freya froze, the impact of his words striking her like a physical blow. They were simple, stripped of pretense, yet they resonated deeply within her—an instinctive truth that transcended the barriers of memory. In that moment, warmth blossomed within her, something familiar and achingly old.
Even with three years of his memories stripped away, Parker still felt that connection. He still reached for her, his hand guiding her toward the concierge desk. A female staff member appeared swiftly, her movements efficient and gentle as she retrieved gauze and antiseptic foam. She worked with a practiced ease, rewrapping Freya’s shoulder with a care that spoke volumes.
The tear wasn’t deep; her earlier burst of strength had been driven by adrenaline and the primal instincts of her wolf, not recklessness.
Only when the bleeding slowed did Parker let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
“Freya… don’t ever do that again,” he murmured, his voice low and serious. “Charging a full circle of guards alone—you could have been seriously hurt.”
“Today was an exception,” she replied, her tone steady and unwavering. “If I hadn’t acted, Everett would never have taken me seriously.”
“You were too impulsive. If Everett truly decided to come after you—”
“He won’t.” Freya’s gaze sharpened, determination igniting within her. “And even if he did—this is the Capital, not C-Domain. The Williams Family doesn’t get to run wild here.”
A faint, wry smile danced on her lips. “Besides… your intel about what he cares about helped.”
Parker’s expression tightened, a mix of frustration and concern etched on his features. “So you risked your life to rip off his pendant?”
“It worked, didn’t it?” Freya shot back, her eyes softening as she regarded him. “But what about you? What will you do now?”
Parker fell silent, the weight of his thoughts heavy in the air.
“Lina is still in C-Domain,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “The Williams Family is covering all her treatment, and she still needs Jenny’s marrow for stabilization. For now… I can’t leave.”
“I understand.” Her heart ached with empathy; Freya knew the burden of a sibling’s life better than anyone.
Parker continued, his voice quiet but resolute.
“And Everett’s mother… she’s a good woman. A painful past, but good. I won’t break the promise I made. I’ll help her stabilize, help her accept who I really am—Eric.”
Freya blinked in surprise.
Parker… willing to embrace the identity he had lost?
His voice grew firmer, a newfound conviction threading through his words.
“Once the Williams Family finishes negotiating their trade agreement with the Whitmore Group, I’ll return to C-Domain, settle everything, and come back—not as Parker, but as Eric.”
Freya felt her throat constrict, emotion swelling within her.
For a fleeting heartbeat, she could see the brother she remembered—the one who had always stood between her and danger, who had shielded her with his body, who would gently touch her head when they parted ways.
“Alright,” she whispered, her voice steady and filled with resolve. “I’ll wait for you.”
Her smile—soft, steady—seemed to unlock something deep within Parker. He reached out, almost instinctively, his hand rising toward her head.
Just like before.
But then, his hand froze mid-air, suspended in uncertainty.
“What’s wrong?” Freya frowned, concern flickering in her eyes.
“Nothing,” he muttered, attempting to retract his hand.
But Freya wouldn’t let him.
She guided his palm to the crown of her head, allowing him to feel the familiar shape, the warmth that had always been a source of comfort.
“No matter what happened,” she said quietly, “you are my brother. You always touched my head when we said goodbye. Always.”
Parker stilled, and in that moment, he felt it—the echo of a memory coursing through him, a muscle-deep recognition that resonated within his very bones. A flicker of a thousand past gestures, a warmth that transcended time.
This wasn’t mere imagination.
This was real.
Later, after Freya had departed from the hotel, Parker found himself back in the presidential suite.
Inside, Everett stood by the window, the old pendant clutched in one hand. The aged photograph within—depicting a little girl no older than three—rested gently against his palm.
Without turning, Everett’s voice broke the silence.
“You’re back. I thought you might leave with her.”
“I made a promise,” Parker replied, his voice steady. “To pretend to be part of the Williams Family for the old woman’s sake. I won’t break that. I’ll help her accept my real identity as Eric. And after the negotiations here are done… I’ll return to C-Domain.”
Everett finally closed the pendant, his fingers curling protectively around it.
He turned to Parker, studying him intently, a myriad of emotions flickering across his face.
Three years.
Three years of living under the same roof.
Three years of guiding him, teaching him, watching him grow.
Parker wasn’t his son.
Yet, Everett felt an instinctive, inexplicable bond with him—something akin to pride, an Alpha recognizing the potential within a cub destined for greatness.
Parker had lost his past, yet he absorbed every new skill with an eagerness that was nothing short of remarkable. His growth was astonishing—his composure, his strategic mind, his adaptability. He navigated the intricate web of the Williams Family’s internal affairs with an ease that belied his age.
Everett admired him.
Respected him.
And, though he would never voice it aloud, there were moments when he felt as if the boy truly belonged to him.
A flicker of an unreadable emotion crossed Everett’s eyes.
“The girl,” he murmured, almost to himself, “she’s far more dangerous than she appears.”
But his voice wasn’t filled with anger.
It sounded… conflicted.
And perhaps, just a little impressed.
Chapter 390 of “Shadows of Our Love,” Freya returns home to find her friend Lana anxiously awaiting her arrival. Lana expresses her frustration over Freya’s late return and the fact that her communication device was off. Freya reveals that she met with Everett, the Alpha, and recounts the tense encounter, where she defended herself against his threats and took a pendant from him. Lana is shocked by Freya’s bold actions, but Freya remains calm, emphasizing that she did what was necessary to protect herself.
The conversation shifts as Freya reveals her need to take a day off to visit Whitmor Tower and speak with Silas about Jenny, a woman who saved her brother Eric. Freya explains that Jenny is in dire need of a marrow transplant due to her blood cancer, and the Williams Family is preparing to abandon her. Despite Lana’s concerns about Freya’s soft-heartedness, Freya is determined to protect Jenny for Eric’s sake, revealing the emotional weight of her decision.
As Freya arrives at Whitmor Tower, she faces a cold reception from Silas, who refuses to meet her despite her insistence that her visit is personal. Their strained relationship is evident as Silas reminds her of the boundaries she had set between them. Feeling rejected, Freya reaches out to Wren, Silas’s aide, seeking a brief moment with Silas to discuss the life-and-death situation regarding Jenny. Freya’s determination to save Jenny for Eric highlights her internal conflict and the complexities of her feelings towards Silas.
The chapter concludes with Freya standing in the stark, imposing environment of the tower, grappling with her emotions. The tension between her past with Silas and her current mission to save Jenny underscores the stakes involved. Freya’s resolve to prioritize her brother’s savior over her own feelings reflects her deep sense of loyalty and love for her family, setting the stage for the challenges she must face ahead.
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**Shadows of Our Love: Chapter 390**
**Freya’s POV**
As I finally swung the door of my temporary home open, the moment felt electric. Lana practically leaped at me, her energy palpable, a whirlwind of concern and frustration.
“Freya! Moon above, you’re just getting home now? You mentioned you started driving back this morning! Even a human courier could have made it here faster! And your WolfComm was off! I was this close to filing a missing-person report with the Iron Fang Recon Unit!”
Her relief washed over me, an overwhelming wave that left me breathless. I took a deep breath, peeling off my coat as I stepped inside, the familiar scent of home wrapping around me.
“I made a stop along the way,” I replied, my voice steady. “I went to meet Everett.”
Lana froze mid-sentence, her expression shifting from worry to shock. Her eyes widened as I recounted every detail of my encounter with the Alpha—how I had stepped into his presence, how I had locked his throat with my elbow, and the moment I had ripped the pendant from him.
When I finished, she let out a long, incredulous whistle.
“So you actually locked the old man’s throat? Freya, he’s the head of the Williams Family! The backbone forged by their Alpha! And you just tore off his pendant!”
“I wasn’t about to sit there and let him decide my fate,” I said, my voice calm, almost flat. “He cornered me. I had to fight back.”
“Cornered you? Freya, he threatened you! You should have punched him through a wall,” Lana exclaimed, her anger bubbling over as she began to pace the room. “If I had been there, I would have bitten him myself!”
A quiet agreement resonated within me, my wolf echoing her sentiment.
I shook my head firmly. “He saved my brother once. I won’t hurt him unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
What I didn’t voice, the unsettling truth that gnawed at my insides, was how eerily similar Everett looked to Parker. The same brow line, the same shape of the eyes—it was like staring at an older version of my brother. A ghostly reflection of Eric trapped inside a man who was never truly one of us.
Lana’s fury ebbed away as she finally sank into a chair, the tension in her body easing.
“Alright… what now? You’re safe, and that’s what truly matters.”
“I need to take a day of leave tomorrow,” I announced, the weight of my decision heavy in the air.
She blinked, clearly taken aback. “Leave? Why? Are you hurt? Did he hit you? Did the guards hurt you? Freya, swear to the Moon—”
“I’m fine,” I interjected, raising a palm to calm her. “I need to go to the Whitmor Tower. To see Silas.”
“Silas?” Her voice shot up an octave, disbelief etched across her features. “Why him?”
“To talk about Jenny.”
“Jenny? What did she do this time? Didn’t Silas already declare he’d strip her from the Williams Family registry?”
“He wants her expelled,” I replied quietly, feeling the gravity of the situation settle over us. “But right now… she can’t be.”
Lana’s gaze pierced through me, demanding clarity. “Freya. Explain.”
“My brother’s savior,” I breathed out, the words heavy with emotion. “The woman who shielded Eric with her own body… she has blood cancer. She needs Jenny’s marrow. Without Jenny, she won’t survive. And the Williams Family is preparing to cast her aside because Silas is putting pressure on them.”
So yes, as absurd as it seemed, I had to protect Jenny.
For Eric.
His savior is my savior, too.
Lana fell into a contemplative silence, the weight of my revelation hanging in the air before she finally sighed. “You’re too soft-hearted. But… I get it.”
That night, sleep eluded me. My wolf paced restlessly beneath my skin, a bundle of nerves. Each time I attempted to close my eyes, visions of Parker brushing his fingers through my hair swirled in my mind, confusion and instinct mingling in his expression. Eric was still in there, somewhere, waiting for the chance to wake.
The following morning, I arrived at Whitmor Tower, the tallest structure that pierced the heart of the Capital. Its walls were a striking blend of steel, blackstone, and reinforced moon-glass, the Ironclad Coalition’s insignia gleaming proudly above the entrance.
I approached the reception desk, where a staff member greeted me with a polite bow.
“I’d like to meet Silas,” I stated firmly. “I’m here on a private matter.”
“If you don’t have an appointment,” she replied with a practiced smile, “the chairman won’t be available.”
I lowered my gaze, my heart racing as I tapped my WolfComm. My finger hovered over Silas’s contact for a heartbeat longer than I intended before I finally pressed call.
The line rang, a steady pulse of hope and anxiety. Just as I began to doubt he would answer, his familiar voice sliced through the silence.
“What do you want?”
His tone was as sharp as winter steel, a stark contrast to the warmth it once held for me.
“Yes,” I replied softly, my heart pounding. “I need to see you. I’m downstairs… in the lobby of your tower.”
“If it’s business,” he shot back coldly, “use the proper channels.”
“It’s not business. It’s personal.”
His silence stretched, colder than his words.
Then he finally spoke, “Do we still have anything personal between us? You were the one who wanted clear lines—your path, my path, no crossing. And you were right. There’s no reason for us to meet.”
With that, the call ended, leaving me staring at my screen, my breath caught in my throat. A bitter, humorless smile tugged at my lips.
I was the one who had severed our ties.
I was the one who insisted we keep our worlds apart.
And now, here I stood, once again in his world, asking for his help.
I exhaled slowly, scrolling to another contact—Wren, Silas’s aide. It had been ages since I last called him, back when I briefly served as Silas’s guard during the Coalition’s summit. My finger hesitated for just a moment before I pressed call.
He answered almost immediately.
“Freya?”
“Hello, Wren.” My voice softened, tinged with urgency. “I… need a favor. Could you let me know when Silas might have time today? I tried calling him, but he refused to see me.”
Wren inhaled sharply. “Chairman Silas has two meetings today. Both are long.”
I knew what that meant—intense, political battles between Alphas and economic leaders, hours of stone-faced discussions with no breaks, no chances to slip through.
Still, I steadied my voice, determination rising within me.
“I just need one moment with him,” I insisted. “A short one. It’s important. Life-and-death important.”
“I can’t promise anything,” Wren said honestly. “But… I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you.”
As the call ended, I stood there, surrounded by the cold shimmer of moon-glass pillars, the hum of drones patrolling above, and the metallic scent of silver-forged steel in the air.
Silas was somewhere above me—Alpha of the Ironclad Coalition, a man feared by nations, a wolf whose presence had once felt like a storm wrapped around my heartbeat.
Now, he wouldn’t even look at me.
My wolf bristled faintly, not in anger, but in something far more complicated—pride wounded, instinct unsettled, and my heart tightening in a way I didn’t want to acknowledge.
But I straightened my back, forcing myself to focus.
This wasn’t about Silas.
This wasn’t about our past.
This was about Eric.
About the woman who saved him.
About Jenny’s fate—and what her life meant to my family.