Ch. 61..65: A Warrior Luna's Awakening Chapter 61-65
Chapter 61
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His eyes softened with something like grief. “Child, if I had known you carried so much on your own… I should have stepped forward long ago. Never forget–you always have me at your back.”
My throat tightened, and I could only manage a thick, “Mm.”
“When will you take your parents‘ ashes home?” he asked gently.
“Tomorrow. After the papers are signed, I’ll head straight for the airport.”
He nodded, resolute. “Then I’ll see them off with you. Your father and mother deserve that honor.”
A cough sounded behind him. I lifted my gaze and saw Silas Whitmor, striding forward. His presence carried the weight of steel and blood, and even the shadows seemed to bend.
Aldred cleared his throat. “There is something I must discuss with you, Freya.”
My brow furrowed. “What is it?”
The old commander seemed almost sheepish. “The Whitmore enterprises and the military maintain close cooperation. But with the recent death of the Whitmore patriarch, succession has been… unstable.”
Silas has already faced multiple assassination attempts in a matter of weeks. His safety has become a matter of grave concern. If something happens to him, we don’t know what hand will seize control afterward. Stability is paramount.”
I understood immediately. For the sake of security and alliance, they couldn’t allow the Ironclad Alpha to fall.
“But here is the matter,” Aldred continued. “Silas requested specifically that you be assigned as his guardian.”
“What?” My shock slipped out before I could stop it.
Silas inclined his head, his voice carrying quiet command. “I’ve seen what you’re capable of, Freya Thorne. You’ve saved Aldred more than once. I trust you more than anyone else to guard my life.”
I almost laughed at the irony. “If protection is what you seek, there are warriors in the Iron Fang Recon Unit whose skill far exceeds mine. You’d be better served by them.”
His eyes locked on mine, unflinching, wolf to wolf. “Perhaps. But trust cannot be replaced. And the only one I trust-” his lips curved into something that was not quite a smile, “-is you.”
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Third Person’s POV
Freya’s voice was steady, though her eyes carried the weight of grief. “Tomorrow I’ll be traveling to Ashbourne to lay my parents to rest. After that, I’ll need time to handle their estate matters. I fear I won’t have the time to serve as your bodyguard.”
Silas‘ lips curved faintly, the kind of smile that never reached his eyes. “What a coincidence. I. 100, am headed for Ashbourne. You could tend to your parents‘ affairs while also guarding me. I have no need for your presence every hour of the day, Freya. Only when you’re free–and only when I need your protection.”
Freya frowned. The Ironclad Alpha was not short of warriors. Why insist on her? Was it merely interest in her, or something deeper?
Aldred drew Freya aside, his voice low and weighted with concern. “You’ve already left the from Fang Recon Unit. I never intended to drag you into this mire. But some within the ranks insisted I at least consult you. You are free to refuse. If you do I’ll take responsibility and find another way.”
Freya could feel the old commander’s sincerity, his worry for her clear. Yet if she refused, the burden would fall heavier om his shoulders.
Her gaze shifted back toward Silas.
“I require only three months,” Silas said calmly. “Three months, and I will secure my position as head of the Whitmore family. In that same span. I’ll uncover the one orchestrating these assassination attempts.”
“And if you fail?” Freya asked, meeting his eyes.
“Then I’ll submit to whoever the military assigns in your place,” he replied evenly. “At the end of three months, you may walk zway or stay, if you choose. The decision will be yours.”
1
At last. Freya gave her answer. Three months was not long. And more than that, she would not let Aldred shoulder the suraim alome.
Before site left, Aldred placed a heavy hand on her shoulder, his voice carrying the weight of command and paternal care… “Listen to me, child. You’ve left the Recon Unit. You’re no longer bound by its oaths. No matter what happens, your first duny now is to survive. Do you hear me? If the danger becomes extreme, your life comes first. Always.”
Freya saw the deep lines of worry on his face, and her heart tightened. “Don’t worry. I know my limits.”
But Aldred only sighed. He knew well the blood in her veins. The daughter of Arthur Thorne and Myra could not shed the instime carved into her bones: the soldier’s creed to see the mission through, no matter the cost.
“Freya,” he said softly, his voice low and rough, “promise me you’ll live. That is not only my wish–it is your parents‘ wish as
well
Her eyes stung, nurmung ned at the edges, but she nodded faintly.
When Aldred leti, Salas remained. His gaze lingered on her, cool and assessing. “Tomorrow you’ll be in Ashbourne.”
“Yes,” she sade
“Shall I drive you home tootingin?” Silas edi.
She shook her head “No need. I brought my own
He accepted this with another of has subtle
Very well. In any case, we’ll be seeing each other again soon.”
Freya pressed her lips together. Three months. That was all it would take. She could endure that.
Ar that same time. Caelum Grafton shed himself away in hos villa
The Alpha of the Silverfang Pack entered his odme cam cumber and anat i baren. The air felt cold, stripped of scent, of
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presence. The woman who had filled the room with life had erased every trace of herself. Her scent lingered faintly, a phantom on the sheets and wood, but all her belongings were gone.
It was as though Freya had already torn herself free of his world.
From beyond the door came the thudding of fists, his mother Eleanor’s voice mingled with Giselle’s. Yet Caelum ignored them. His eyes scoured the room, hunting desperately for something–anything–that might remain of her.
When he pulled open the drawer of the bedside table, he froze.
There, resting in silence, lay two simple rings.
The cheap metal bands they had bought at a night market before their union. They had cost only a handful of bills. He had once promised her, “When I’ve made my fortune, I’ll buy you a diamond ring worthy of you.”
But she had smiled at him then, slipping the plain band onto her finger without a single complaint. She had not cared for gold or stone–only for the bond.
Now, holding the rings in his hand, Caelum felt that promise like a knife. He had become wealthy beyond measure, the head of SilverTech Forgeworks, Alpha of his pack. He could have given her a jewel that shamed the stars. Yet when the time had come to dissolve their bond, he had not even given her that.
The weight of guilt gnawed into him.
He searched again, but found nothing more. No clothes, no trinkets, no letters. Just the rings. Just the echo of what they had shared.
And only then did it strike him–they had never even taken a wedding portrait. At first, he had thought to wait, to save money, to capture it later. But later had never come. It had slipped away, deemed unnecessary, forgotten amidst ambition.
The pounding at the door grew louder, Giselle’s shrill cries cutting through.
At last, Caelum pulled the door open..
His sister stared at him, wide–eyed. “Brother, are you all right?”
Caelum’s fist clenched tightly around the two wedding bands, his face shadowed with bitterness.
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Eleanor’s voice was hoarse with fury, though every word made the bruises on her cheeks throb with pain.
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“All of this–every wound, every shame–it’s that wretched Freya Thorne’s fault. I said from the start, Caelum, you should never have married a woman like her!”
Her words dripped with venom, but Caelum could no longer bear them. His wolf surged within, restless and enraged.
Enough!” he growled, his voice low and edged with Alpha authority. “Do not speak ill of her again. In three years of marriage, she has never wronged me. If anything-” his throat tightened, the guilt scorching-“it’s I who wronged her. Without Freya, I would not have the life I have now.”
“Brother, you can’t mean that!” Giselle, his younger sister, bristled. “What, just because of that 1.53 million she gave you? She only contributed a bit of money to your business. The success of SilverTech Forgeworks is yours alone, not hers!”
Caelum fell silent. Once, he would have agreed. Once, he would have dismissed Freya’s sacrifice as trivial compared to his own sweat and ambition. But now… now the truth gnawed at him.
“We are not yet divorced,” he said, his voice rough but resolute. “I am still her husband. If I do not stand at her side, then what kind of man am I?”
Giselle froze, staring at him as if she no longer recognized her brother. “Caelum… what’s wrong with you? You’ve never defended her before. Never!”
Her words struck him harder than claws. He staggered inwardly at the realization. Since the day he had taken Freya as his mate, had he ever stood at her side when others tore into her? No. Time and again, he had chosen the pack’s whispers, his family’s scorn, his own pride…… over her.
The weight of his wolf’s guilt was suffocating. He clenched his fists, then turned to his family. “How much money do you still have? Give me whatever you can.”
Giselle’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t be serious. You’re not actually planning to give Freya that 1.53 million, are you?”
“Not give.” Caelum corrected, his tone sharp. “Return. It was hers to begin with.”
-I—I don’t have that kind of money,” Giselle muttered, her eyes flickering away.
Eleanor’s lips pressed into a thin, bitter line. “You asked me for funds when the company was struggling. I gave you what I had Of course I don’t have any left now.”
But both were lying, and Caelum could scent it. Their words reeked of semess. A hollow disappointment spread through
him, colder than steel! He turned away.
“Fine. I’ll find another way.”
He left the Whitmor estate without another word, his wolf’s claws raking at his chest, and sought out Aurora.
Aurora looked startled when he appeared.
“Aurora…. can I borrow money from you?” His voice was unsteady, roughened with humiliation. “SilverTech’s accounts are tied up. I don’t have access to liquid funds right now. I need 1.53 million.”
Aurora’s brows furrowed, her wolf watching him with wary calculation. “Caelum, I told you before. I can lend you ten thousand, maybe. No more. I only just became co–pilot. My salary isn’t much.”
Caelum’s jaw flexed. Desperation stung his pride. “Then… the jewelry I gave you. Could you pawn one or two pieces? Just until I can pay you back. When SilverTech stabilizes, I’ll redeem them for you. I swear it.”
Aurora blinked. “Jewelry?”
“Yes” His voice cracked with urgency. “The necklaces, the bracelets. If you sell or pawn them, we could raise enough. Later, I’ll buy them back. Better ones, even.”
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Aurora hesitated. Her heart sneered in silence–why should she pawn off her gifts for the sake of another woman? But her mind was sharper, calculating. 1.53 million could sever Freya’s tie to Caelum forever. Then, finally, Aurora could take her place as the Alpha’s chosen mate, the true Luna of Silverfang.
So she smiled sweetly. “Of course. Wait here.”
She returned moments later with a velvet tray laden with glittering jewels. Gold, diamonds, emeralds, sapphires–every token Caelum had ever placed into her hands, every offering he had given her that he had never once thought to give his own wife.
The sight seared Caelum’s chest. His hand slipped into his pocket, brushing against the small, cheap bands he had once bought at a night market. Two hundred yuan rings, the promise of better ones in the future. He had told Freya, Someday, I’ll give you a diamond worthy of you.
Someday had never come.
Now, looking at Aurora’s tray, he realized why. He had lavished jewels upon Aurora… while Freya had been given nothing but empty promises and loneliness.
He had even betrayed Freya’s only request—that he retrieve her late mother’s ruby necklace at an auction. Instead, blinded by Aurora’s beauty, he had gifted it to her. Only Aurora’s disdainful rejection had spared it from being lost among the trinkets on this tray.
The shame was unbearable.
“Caelum?” Aurora’s voice brushed against his ear, lilting, almost coaxing.
He snapped back, his eyes fastening onto a ruby ring. He picked it up, the gem burning against his palm like molten iron. “This one. Pawn this first. When the company recovers, I’ll redeem it… and buy you something even better.”
The ring’s heat scalded him, searing deeper than flesh. His wolf recoiled. This was not Freya’s. It should have been hers.
Aurora’s lips curved. “Of course. You know I’ve never cared for jewels anyway.”
He forced a tight smile, his chest aching. “Yes. You’re the kind of woman who soars through the skies. These trinkets are nothing to you.”
But as he spoke, his wolf howled low inside him, torn by guilt and betrayal. Freya had been his mate, his true Luna. The one who had stood with him through ruin and hunger. The one who had bled for his future.
And yet… he had given her nothing.
Nothing at all.
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Caelum’s mind betrayed him with images he had not called for.
Not of Aurora, the Bluemoon Beta’s daughter, whose delicate smile now sat across from him.
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But of another–Freya–seated in the cockpit of a roaring aircraft, steel eyes fixed on the horizon as the machine clawed toward the clouds. The memory of her daring maneuvers, the impossible aerial rolls, the sharp pull of wings against the sky -it branded itself deeper into his mind than any of Aurora’s practiced gentleness ever could.
Aurora spoke, her voice steady, pragmatic.
“As for SilverTech Forgeworks, don’t let the burden weigh too heavy. My mother’s family is strong in the southern isles. They’ve begun developing the outer sea chains. They’ll need a technology house with aerial expertise–particularly in drone warfare. That’s where your company could break through. I’ll help you.”
Her words lit a fire in Caelum’s chest. In the Capital, the skies swarmed with rival firms–SkyVex Armaments and others— competition tearing at each other’s throats. But in the provinces, where development was only beginning, the field was far
clearer.
It could be their opening.
“Thank you, Aurora,” he said, his gratitude genuine. “Not only did you save me once, but you’ve never stopped helping me
since.”
Aurora’s lips curved in a soft smile. “Between us, why should we keep count? I only want to see you rise.”
But beneath her composed grace, ambition blazed. She wanted her branch of the Bluemoon Pack–the second house long dismissed—to stand higher than the first. She wanted every wolf who once sneered at her bloodline to bow their heads. And she would do it through Caelum, through his success.
Only then would she claim what had been denied her.
The next night, the Moonstone Ceremony.
Freya and Caelum waited in silence among the other wolves gathered on the cliffside plateau. The great Moonstone stood at the center, glowing faintly with the silver blessing of Luna. It was here that mates declared their bond… or severed it.
Freya’s hands were steady as she stepped forward, voice carrying through the chill night air.
“Caelum Grafton, Alpha of Silverfang–under Luna’s witness, I release you. I reject our bond.”
Her words cut sharper than any blade.
Caelum’s jaw tightened. For a moment he wanted to resist, to fight the pull of finality. But then his shoulders sank with the weight of inevitability. He bowed his head.
“…I accept.”
The Moonstone flared briefly, then dimmed. Their bond was broken.
Freya did not falter. She stood straighter, lighter than she had in years. From this moment on, she was no longer the wife bound to the Alpha of Silverfang–she was only Freya Thorne,
Caelum’s voice halted her as she turned to leave.
“Wait”
She stopped, cold eyes meeting his.
“Lady Thorne,” he said, the formal address cutting him even as it left his lips, “I never once paid respects to your parents. I know it is late but may I come, and honor them now?”
Freya laughed–a bitter, incredulous sound. How absurd. When they had been bound, he had promised again and again to
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stand at her side before her parents‘ graves. Each time he had broken that promise, leaving her alone in her mourning.
And now–after rejection–he asked to go?
“My parents,” she said, voice sharp as ice, “do not need your pretense of honor.”
She did not wait for his reply. She walked past him and out into the night.
Outside the ritual grounds, a sleek black car waited. Lana leaned against the door, her expression hard but her eyes softening as she saw her friend emerge free.
Freya slid into the passenger seat, her hands curling around the urn on the seat beside her. The urn was draped with the crimson–stitched flag of honor.
“It’s done?” Lana asked quietly.
Freya nodded, a small smile touching her lips. “Done. From tonight on, I have nothing to do with Caelum Grafton.” She held up the small shard of broken bondstone that now lay in her palm–the mark of rejection.
Lana exhaled, relief and fury mingling. “Good. Three years wasted on a male who never truly claimed you. Thank the Moon there was no pup, or he’d still have a chain around your heart.”
Freya’s thumb brushed the urn’s cool surface, eyes softening. “He returned the sum–1.53 million. But to me, it isn’t coin. It’s the last gift my parents left me.”
“At least he did that much,” Lana muttered, still scornful. “When you return from Ironfang lands, I’ll take you to the temple, cleanse away this curse. Being tied to him was misfortune enough for ten lifetimes.”
Freya chuckled faintly, her gaze steady now. “Let’s go. To the airport.”
Tonight she would carry her parents back to their homeland–back to the soil of the Iron Fang Recon Unit where they had once fought and bled, to rest in the honored stones of the warriors‘ cemetery.
It was their wish. And she would see it fulfilled.
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Riley’s POV
“I’ll head in myself,” I told Lana quietly as we pulled up to the terminal. “You don’t need to see me off.”
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She shook her head, stubborn as always. “You’ve still got time before the gates open. I’ll stay until you walk through. Don’t tell me you’d deny me the chance to send your parents on their last journey.”
Her words softened me. I lowered my gaze to the urn in my lap, draped in crimson cloth marked with the sigil of honor. Father. Mother. Soon, I would bring them home. Soon, they would rest in the soil of where warriors belonged.
We stepped into the waiting hall. My chest was heavy but steady.
Then a voice cut through the air.
“Freya? Why are you here?”
I looked up sharply. Aurora stood before me, clad in her crisp co–pilot uniform, the Bluemoon crest gleaming at her collar.
Of all wolves, I hadn’t expected to see her here.
“Of course she’s here to fly,” Lana snapped before I could speak. “Or do passengers need your permission to sit in the hall
now?
Aurora’s expression faltered for an instant before it hardened again. “I heard you stood before the Moonstone with Caelum today. Don’t tell me you lost your nerve, Freya. Did you change your mind about rejecting him?”
I rose, my voice colder than the steel beneath my feet. “Caelum Grafton and I are finished. From this night forward, what the two of you do is no concern of mine.”
Her breath left her in a visible sigh, relief flashing in her eyes. That relief soured quickly into something darker when she saw my face–unbothered, resolute, unbroken. Envy curled around her scent like smoke.
And then she played her hand.
“You’ve received the 1.53 million already, haven’t you?” Her lips curved. “That was my ring I pawned so Caelum could give it to you. Perhaps you owe me thanks.”
Lana bristled, fury radiating off her like a storm. “Thanks? For what–playing the leech these last two years? How much have you bled from him already, little mistress?”
Aurora’s eyes flashed. Watch your tongue! I’m no mistress. Accuse me again without proof, and I’ll have your name dragged before the Elders for defamation!”
I let a bitter smile curl my lips. “Proof?” My voice rang through the hall. “I showed the proof to every wolf in the Capital yesterday. Do I need to remind you? While I was still bound to him, Caelum Grafton showered you with jewels worth over fifty million. All behind my back. By law, half of it is mine.”
Aurora froze, color draining from her cheeks.
“So no, Aurora,” I continued softly, with a blade’s edge beneath every word, “I don’t owe you gratitude. You should be grateful I’ve yet to demand my half. But you’ve reminded me–perhaps I will. Perhaps I’ll drag those baubles from your neck one by one, and watch you return them under oath.”
Her scent soured into sharp panic. Around her, her flight crew had begun whispering, voices low but cutting. They’d all believed she had landed a powerful mate, envied her for catching the Alpha of Silverfang. And now they saw her truth–that she had been nothing more than a thief in another’s bond.
Aurora’s skin flushed red, and her eyes burned with something more dangerous than shame. They slid to the urn cradled in my arms.
“What are you carrying?” she demanded suddenly, her tone sharp with authority. “As a sworn pilot of the Airborne Wing, I have the right to demand inspection. For all I know, you’re carrying contraband.”
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Lana’s fury flared again. “You dare! That’s her parents‘ ashes you’re mocking!”
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Aurora’s chin lifted, her voice laced with command. “I’m safeguarding every soul on this flight. If she carries nothing forbidden, she has nothing to fear. Hand it over, Freya. Let it be inspected.”
My grip tightened around the urn until my knuckles blanched. My wolf rose in my chest, lips curling at the insult. “This urn holds Arthur and Myra Thorne–warriors of the Iron Fang Recon Unit. Their ashes have been cleared and sealed by the authorities of the Capital. No one will disturb them.”
Aurora laughed, the sound brittle. “Your word alone? For all I know, that powder is no different from illicit dust. You say it’s cleared, but I’ve seen no record. As co–pilot of this flight, I demand it.”
Her hand lifted her radio, summoning the airport security pack. My heart thudded, my wolf snarling at the thought of strangers laying hands on what was left of my parents.
Steel–toed boots echoed against the hall floor as the guards approached. Aurora’s voice was quick, venomous.
“She carries a suspicious item. I call for it to be seized and examined.”
The guards turned to me. “Lady
horne, hand the urn to us for inspection. If it is as you claim, it will be returned,”
I stood tall, the weight of my lineage burning through my veins. “No,” I said coldly. “It has already passed the channels of our law. These are the ashes of honored dead. You will not touch them.