Ch. 66..70: A Warrior Luna's Awakening Chapter 66-70
Chapter 66
Riley’s POV
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“The co–pilot has ordered inspection,” one of the guards barked. “We only assist. If you refuse, we’ll be forced to seize it by strength.”
The air thickened, bristling like hackles raised before a fight.
Then a voice I hadn’t expected cut through the tension.
“Freya… perhaps you should let them check it.”
My head snapped toward the sound. My heart stuttered.
Caelum Grafton.
The Alpha of Silverfang. My former mate. My betrayer.
Why was he here?
Aurora stepped quickly to his side, her eyes lighting with false warmth. “Caelum, what are you doing here?”
His lips pressed thin, and he didn’t meet her gaze. He wouldn’t admit the truth–how he’d shadowed my car, seen me carry my parents‘ ashes, guessed I was bringing Arthur and Myra Thorne home to their resting place. He wouldn’t admit he’d followed not for her, but for me.
“Don’t tell me you came because you knew it was my flight today?” Aurora teased, voice honeyed poison.
“…Yes.” He gave a stiff nod, then turned toward me. “Aurora’s only concerned for safety. It’s just a check, Freya.”
“Check?” My voice lashed out like a whip, sharp enough to cut flesh. “Caelum, are you saying even in death my parents will know no peace?”
“That’s not what I meant. I just thought—if there’s nothing wrong-
“I’ve already filed through the proper channels!” I cut him off, fury igniting in my chest. “If Aurora failed to receive the notice, that’s her negligence. And yet you’d demand I hand over my parents‘ remains to cover her incompetence? Tell me, Caelum–don’t you find that laughable?”
His throat bobbed, but he had no answer. He couldn’t even meet my eyes.
Aurora snarled, snapping at the guards. “What are you waiting for? Seize the box! If it’s a bomb, who bears responsibility then?”
Her words struck sparks of fear through the guards. They moved, circling me like wolves closing in.
Lana tried to push through to my side, but they blocked her path with broad shoulders and armored arms.
I clutched the urn tighter to my chest. The military had offered escorts. I’d refused. No, it had to be me. I alone would carry Arthur and Myra back to the Ashbourne’s soil, back to the sacred ground where warriors lay.
And now, here in the belly of an airport, they dared dishonor them.
“Who dares touch this urn?” My voice thundered, sharpened by the battlefield that had forged me.
For a heartbeat, the guards froze. My killing intent slammed into them like a wave of ice. I saw it in their eyes–the primal shudder of prey meeting predator. None dared step closer.
Aurora barked again, shrill. “Do it! Are you cowards?!”
Their fear clashed with their orders. At last, steel scraped as they pushed forward.
My wolf surged. I lashed out.
Chapter 66
One boot slammed into a chestplate–he flew back.
A second guard fell beneath my heel.
A third went sprawling with a cry.
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They struck me, batons and fists, but I did not fall. The ashes in my arms were heavier than any weapon, more sacred than
shield. Blood warmed my skin, but my spirit only grew sharper.
any
I was wrath. I was fury. I was a daughter defending her fallen.
Aurora’s voice shrieked across the chaos. “Pathetic! So many of you against one woman and still you can’t take her down? Get theurn!”
“Those are the ashes of Ashbourne dead!” Lana cried out desperately. “Aurora, are you even wolf anymore?”
Aurora sneered. “Lies. As if anyone believes that tale.”
My gaze locked on her, my vision rimmed in red. My wolf snarled behind my eyes, and I strode forward, cutting through the guards like a storm.
No one dared block me now.
Aurora’s face went pale as I bore down on her, the urn still clasped against my chest. She stumbled back, shrieking at the guards. “Stop her! Don’t let her near me!”
But none moved. None would risk laying hands on what might truly be warrior’s ashes.
I reached her, drove my boot into her chest. She crashed to the ground, the breath torn from her lungs. My foot pinned her to the tiles, pressing down, the crack of ribs threatening in the air.
Her face twisted, a mask of rage and fear. “Freya, this is an airport–you dare attack me here?”
“You dared first,” I growled, voice low as thunder. “Why should I not?”
Caelum’s voice broke in, frantic. “Freya–Aurora was only thinking of safety, how could you-”
My kick sent him flying before he finished, his body slamming into the steel chairs with a sickening thud.
He looked up at me, disbelief shattering across his face. He had never seen me like this. Never believed I’d strike him down.
“You have no right to speak to me of this,” I hissed, eyes colder than winter’s edge.
Then I looked down at Aurora, still writhing beneath my boot. “Arthur Thorne. Myra Brown. They gave their lives for this land. And you dare-“my voice dropped to a deadly whisper, “-to soil their memory.”
She spar, though her voice trembled. “You… you think you can keep me from this flight? I’ll see to it you never board-”
“And you think I won’t break you here and now?” I snarled, my heel grinding down, ready to snap bone and end her arrogance in one strike
The hall shook with sudden rhythm–boots in formation. Soldiers. The echo of a pack trained for war.
“HALT!”
The voice was deep, commanding, carrying the weight of command that could silence wolves mid–howl.
Every head in the hall turned.
squad of soldiers stormed into view, their steps a thunder roll, their scent thick with discipline and authority. At their head, a voice like iron roared again-
“What is the meaning of this?”
Chapter 67
Freya’s POV
The moment I turned my head, a flash of deep green uniforms hit my eyes.
My heart clenched.
Aldred had come.
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I froze, staring at the familiar figure standing not far away. Behind him followed the old pack medic, the one who had once served beside my parents, and with them came others–wolves who had been my father Arthur Thorne’s and my mother Myra Brown’s comrades–in–arms. Two full rows of warriors marched in their wake, their formation sharp, every step echoing the discipline of the Iron Fang Recon Unit.
The air shifted instantly. The terminal went silent, every mortal and wolf alike struck still by the sight of so many soldiers in ceremonial greens.
My throat burned. My eyes stung hot.
I hadn’t shed a single tear when Aurora’s cronies shoved me, or even when the crack of the shock baton rattled against my ribs. I had clenched my jaw, held my wolf’s rage inside a cage.
But now, seeing Aidred here–seeing the pack’s warriors come to escort my parents home for their final run beneath the moon–I nearly broke.
This… this was for them.
The airport guards, who had moments ago dared to brandish batons against me, lowered their weapons at once. Their faces blanched. They no longer dared move.
My gaze swept the rows of soldiers, and for a breath, I felt the ghost of my own Iron Fang days–the oath I once swore, the blood I once spilled for the pack and nation. I had vowed never to dishonor that service. And even though fury thundered inside me, I forced myself to unclench my boot from Aurora’s ribs.
I could have crushed her further. Broken bones, torn muscle–her howl of pain would have satisfied some small part of me. But that kind of vengeance would only drag me into dishonor. Wolves like her weren’t worth the stain.
Aurora stumbled up to her feet, eyes filled with venom. “Freya Thorne, I’ll see you punished for this!”
Before I could answer, Lana stepped forward like a sudden flame. “No–you don’t get to twist this. If not for you, Freya wouldn’t have been cornered like prey by these guards, struck with a shock–baton like some criminal!”
“Shock–baton?” Aldred’s voice rumbled like a thunderclap. His gaze dropped to the weapons in the guards‘ hands. His aura rolled over the hall like a stormfront. “You dared? You wolves dared strike her with those? She is the daughter of martyrs! Her parents gave their lives for this nation. She herself bled for the pack as part of the Iron Fang Recon Unit! And in broad daylight, here in the open, you dare?”
The sound of his words split the air, snapping down like lightning. The staff and guards flinched, eyes darting, suddenly unsure of their footing.
Martyr’s daughter.
Whispers slithered through the crowd. Were the ashes in my arms truly of fallen wolves who had given everything? And was I -me, the woman they had sneered at–not only the daughter of the dead, but a soldier who had once faced death herself in the name of the pack?
The guards who had laid hands on me shifted uneasily, glancing at one another, panic painting their expressions.
Aurora’s face twisted. Disbelief flashed there. She couldn’t swallow it, That I was truly of that bloodline? That Arthur and Myra had indeed fallen for the nation? Rather than an ordinary logistics Omega?
Her eyes cut toward Caelum Gration.
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Chapter 67
But Caelum wasn’t looking at her. He wasn’t even listening.
His gaze was on me.
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And for the first time in so long, it was only on me. I had called to him earlier and he had not heard, but now—now his wolf’s attention was locked. His dark eyes were wide, filled with something like shock. Or recognition.
Aurora stiffened, jealousy crackling off her scent.
As for Caelum… his heart was louder than any words.
I could feel his realization pouring through the bond of his gaze. That what I had said earlier–what he had doubted–was true. My parents were martyrs. They had run their last run for the pack.
And me… I had only wanted him beside me, when I carried them home.
Yet instead–memories slashed through me like claws–when I brought their ashes back, Eleanor had sneered, barring me from the Grafton home. She had pointed at the urn, calling it cursed, spitting on the honor of wolves who had given everything. And Caelum—he had stood silent then, letting me bear it alone.
I saw the way his jaw tightened now, his fists curling at his sides. Regret. Shame. The wolf in him longed to tear at himself for what he had allowed.
The burn in my throat worsened.
Before I could speak, the executives of fight strode hurriedly forward. “Commander Aldred, you honor us with your presence. And Miss Thorne–this is…”
Their words trailed off, dying against the sight of my bruises and Aldred’s fury.
“Miss Thorne came carrying the ashes of martyrs,” Aldred growled. His voice carried like a war drum. “And you–your company’s guards–surrounded her, attacked her, treated her like a threat. Explain yourselves!”
The Yunhang leaders exchanged uneasy glances. Finally, the head of Public Relations stepped forward, pale and sweating. “Someone explain. What happened here?”
All eyes shifted.
To Aurora.
She swallowed, then forced her voice out. “I… I suspected the urn. I thought it was unsafe. She refused to let me inspect it, so I called security. It was only to ensure flight safety-”
A snarl rolled from Aldred’s chest. “Pathetic excuse.”
The soldiers behind him, wolves all, bared their teeth. Their fury was palpable,
1
Aurora floundered, voice rising. “If the urn had held something dangerous–explosives, toxins—then the entire flight could have been at risk! I was thinking of the passengers!”
My wolf snapped inside me. My voice came cold as ice. “I had filed the report. The ashes were cleared. All you had to do was check. But you didn’t check. You chose instead to accuse, to humiliate, and to seize. That was your choice.”
Aurora’s face went white, then red.
“And so what you claim is this,” Aldred said, voice like iron, eyes cutting through her. “That if a pilot doubts–then even the ashes of martyrs can be desecrated, dragged into suspicion, handled like contraband. Is that it?”
His growl reverberated through the hall. Every wolf present felt it in their bones.
And Aurora could only stand there, caught in the shadow of his fury, her lies collapsing like ash in the wind.
Chapter 68
Third Person’s POV
Aurora’s voice trembled as she tried to defend herself, “I didn’t know it was the ashes of martyrs!”
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Lana shoved past the guards blocking her way, her voice sharp with fury. “I shouted it out loud–that it was the ashes of martyrs! And what did you do? You ordered them to snatch the urn faster!”
Aurora’s face went pale instantly. The Iron Fang Recon Unit wolves standing behind Aldred glared at her with burning fury in their eyes, the weight of their collective rage pressing down like a storm.
The executives from Flight who had rushed in to mediate nearly cursed aloud. Aurora, usually flaunting herself as a disciplined and bold female wolf, had committed the most disgraceful of blunders.
The Vice President of Flight didn’t hesitate. His voice cut through the tense silence. “Aurora, as of this moment, you are unfit to continue flight duty. Effective immediately, another co–pilot will replace you.”
“Yes, sir!” someone answered at once, rushing to make the call to dispatch another officer.
Aurora staggered on her feet, blood draining from her face. She would have collapsed had Caelum not steadied her with a hand.
“No… this can’t happen.” Her voice was desperate, her claws digging into his sleeve as though he were her last lifeline. “If I’m suspended now, my future… my promotion… it will all be over. Caelum, help me! Please!”
Caelum looked down at her. Once, Aurora’s beauty and pride had been like fire–bright, unyielding. Now, her pale face and pleading eyes stirred pity in his chest. His wolf bristled uneasily, but his heart softened despite himself.
He stepped forward, his voice directed at Freya. “Why not forgive her this once? If she’s grounded, the consequences for her career will be too severe. Besides, you struck her earlier you’ve vented some of your anger…”
Aldred’s sharp gaze fixed on him. The old wolf’s growl was low, edged with command. “You’ve divorced her, Caelum. What right do you have to speak here?”
“I” Caelum began, but Freya’s cold, cutting voice silenced him,
“Caelum Grafton, when I was cornered and attacked, you said nothing. Not one word, Yet for Aurora, the moment she falters, you’re the first to rush forward and shield her. I told you before you’ve lost the right to say anything to me.”
His throat worked, his pride twisting painfully. “Freya… for the sake of our three years as mates–please, forgive Aurora just
this once.”
He knew Aurora was a fault. But still–Aurora had once been his so–called savior. His wolf told him that debt bound him.
Freya laughed suddenly. The sound cracked, wild and bitter, her eyes shining with unshed tears. The last remnants of longing she had harbored for him shattered in that instant.
“If I hadn’t pulled you out of the river that night–your body torn by eight knife wounds–would you even be alive to stand here and beg me for another she–wolf’s sake? Caelum, you truly are a disgrace!”
The Alpha of Silverfang froze, his pupils dilating sharply. His voice dropped to a whisper. “What did you say? That night… you were the one who saved me?”
It made no sense. He had always believed Aurora had saved him.
But Freya didn’t spare him another glance.
Caelum made to step closer, but Aurora clutched at him, dragging him back. Her head bowed, shadows hiding her face, but her hands shook violently, claws scraping his sleeve.
The announcement for boarding rang through the terminal. Aldred rested a heavy hand on Freya’s shoulder. His voice was firm, but softer now, like the growl of an elder wolf who still cared.
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Chapter 68
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“It’s time, little one. Once you arrive in Ashbourne, don’t forget to have a healer look at your wounds. Don’t rely on youth and wolf blood to dismiss injuries–they will come back to haunt you.”
“I understand,” Freya murmured.
Aldred straightened, the full power of a war–worn Alpha rolling off him. He lifted his hand in salute. “Escort the martyrs Arthur Thorne and Myra Brown… home.”
Every wolf soldier behind him followed suit, their movements crisp, their voices united in a thunderous vow:
“Escort the martyrs home!”
The sound rolled through the terminal like thunder across the mountains, stirring awe and silence among the crowd.
Freya’s eyes reddened, her vision blurred with mist. Her heart trembled.
Father. Mother. Do you see? Your pack, your comrades… they did not forget you. They came to walk you home.
With both hands, she clutched the urn close to her chest and bowed deeply three times to Aldred and the Iron Fang wolves, her wolf’s posture hea
with reverence. Then she turned, shoulders squared, and walked toward the boarding gate.
Her parents… she was finally bringing them home.
Caelum stood frozen, his gaze locked on her retreating back. His thoughts were chaos, spiraling. Too many questions clawed at his mind, tearing at his sanity.
Why would she say she was the one who saved me? How does she know about the eight blades, the river? Why has she kept silent all this time?
He clenched his jaw, his wolf restless inside him. He would find out. He had to.
But as he stared, he wasn’t the only one unraveling.
Aurora’s grip on his arm trembled violently. Her wolf cowered inside her, fear rippling through every nerve.
No… impossible. How can Freya be his true savior? How can this be?
The truth gnawed at her–once, she had only seen Caelum after he had been pulled from the river. She had never saved him. She had simply let him believe it. And when he gave her his gratitude, his loyalty, she had seized it, letting the lie take root.
Now, that lie threatened to devour her whole.
Chapter 69
Freya’s POV
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I boarded the plane with my parents‘ ashes cradled tightly in my arms. Because of the urn, I’d made sure to book business class this time–more space, fewer eyes.
But when I stepped into the cabin, my steps faltered. Aside from the attendants, there was only one other Whitmor, Alpha of the Ironclad Coalition..
Of all the wolves in the world, it had to be him.
passenger–Silas
“I told you,” his voice was smooth, cold, carrying that Alpha weight that pressed against my instincts, “we would meet again
soon.
I swallowed a sharp retort. He wasn’t wrong. Too soon, in fact.
I slid into my seat, the urn resting carefully on the table beside me. The Fates–or the Moon Goddess–must be laughing at me, because of course my assigned seat was right next to his. And with the rest of the cabin empty, it felt as if the predator and I had been caged together on purpose.
The engines roared, the plane lifted, and silence pressed between us—until his voice cut suddenly into the air, low and unsettling.
“Today, Freya Thorne, you gave me quite a spectacle.”
I stiffened. He had seen. Of course he had.
“You saw the chaos at the terminal?” I asked, though the answer was obvious.
“I saw everything,” Silas replied, voice even but laced with something I couldn’t place. “Saw you stand against a dozen guards with nothing but your body and your wolf, just to shield that urn. Saw the shock rods hit you, saw you stagger, refuse to let go. And I saw the moment you broke free–ashes clutched to your chest when you trampled Aurora beneath your boots and even sent Caelum Grafton sprawling with one strike.”
His gaze lingered on me, and my skin prickled under it.
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“At that moment,” he murmured, “you burned so fiercely I could hardly look away.”
His words unsettled me more than the memory of the fight itself. Silas Whitmor was not a wolf who felt. Not for others. His kind admired strength, valued loyalty but life, death, blood? He treated them as pawns on a board.
So why now? Why me?
“Because they’re martyrs‘ ashes, you risked your life to protect them?” he pressed.
I lowered my head, eyes softening as they fell on the urn. “Not only martyrs. They’re my parents. Arthur Thorne. Myra Brown. They spent their lives protecting me. Isn’t it right that their daughter protect them, even in death?”
For a heartbeat, silence. Then he gave a short, bitter curve of the lips.
“Not all parents protect their pups.” His tone was sharp, almost mocking, but beneath it… there was something darker, a shadow I couldn’t read.
I looked up, meeting his eyes. “True. Some parents fail their children. But mine didn’t. They gave me everything. And I’ll bleed out on the floor before I let anyone dishonor their remains.”
His gaze sharpened, and his words cut strange and sudden. “So. If someone treats you well, you repay them? That is your
nature?”
I blinked, caught off guard by the shift. “Of course. Gratitude is a wolf’s duty. A bond cut into our bones.”
“Then what about me?” His words were soft, but they struck like fangs. “If I treat you well… when I die, will you guard my ashes with the same ferocity? Not letting anyone touch a fragment?”
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Chapter 69
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A chill ran through me. His eyes were ice, but they burned on me with a hunter’s heat, unblinking, consuming. I felt bristle, hackles rising beneath my skin.
my wolf
Death. Wolves rarely spoke of it so freely. Most avoided the word altogether. But Silas rolled it off his tongue as though it were nothing but another game piece to move, another mountain to climb.
“Alpha Whitmor,” I said carefully, my voice steadier than I felt, “with your power and your reach, I imagine half the continent would rise to defend your ashes. You won’t need me.”
“Yet you still don’t answer.” His stare pinned me. “You wouldn’t repay me?”
Moon above, what kind of question was this? He hadn’t done anything for me–nothing to bind me to him with debt or duty. My wolf shifted uneasily, but I kept my tone smooth.
“You’re strong and healthy, Silas. You’ll live long. Maybe centuries. Who can say what the future holds? For all I know, I’ll walk into the Moon’s embrace long before you.”
His brow furrowed at that, the faintest ripple of irritation crossing his face. “I don’t like the sound of that. You falling first.”
Then, with a voice like an oath, he said, “If that day ever comes, Freya Thorne, I will guard your ashes myself. And no wolf will lay a claw on them.”
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I nearly choked on my own breath. My ashes? Him, protecting them? That was not the future I wanted. Not at all.
And yet… the weight of his words lingered like a mark against my soul.
Send Gifts
Chapter 70
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Third Person’s POV
On the other side of the city, Aurora was being called before the higher council of flights to answer for what had happened, while Caelum left the terminal alone.
His mind was still a fog, weighed down by the last words Freya had spoken before she vanished from the airport.
Who had truly saved his life?
Was it Freya—or Aurora?
When he had first opened his eyes, the face he saw had been Aurora’s. The healers at the hospital swore it was Aurora who had accompanied him there, who had been at his side. And yet Freya had claimed, with that steady defiance in her eyes, that it had been her.
Was it a lie? Or was there something more?
The pressure in his chest felt like a boulder crushing down on his ribs, making it hard to breathe.
By the time Caelum reached the Silverfang Pack’s villa, his wolf still restless within him, he found Eleanor, his mother, and Giselle, his younger sister, waiting in the lounge.
The moment he stepped through the door, both rose to meet him.
“Brother, what took you so long? It was only supposed to be a trip to the Lunar Severance Office. Don’t tell me Freya refused the divorce?” Giselle asked with a mocking edge, her pretty face alight with cruel amusement. In her mind, no doubt, Freya would never let go of someone like him–Alpha of Silverfang, head of SilverTech Forgeworks, a wolf most saw as a golden prize.
“Don’t tell me she thought one and a half million wasn’t enough,” Eleanor snapped, her voice sharp with disdain. “Frankly, giving her that much was far too generous!”
“Enough,” Caelum growled, pressing his fingers to his temple. His voice carried the weight of Alpha command, but even so, there was exhaustion behind it. “The severance is done. Freya and I are divorced.”
“Truly?” Eleanor’s eyes brightened, a hungry triumph sparking in them.
“I’ve no reason to lie,” Caelum replied flatly.
“Excellent. That woman was never worthy of you. But Aurora–ah, she’s different. Daughter of the Bluemoon Beta, a rising pilot in the Airborne Wing. With her as my daughter–in–law, the family’s standing will blaze like fire. Even the elders of Ashbourne will envy me.” Eleanor’s delight was palpable, already dreaming of the prestige.
“Freya will regret this,” Giselle said with a vicious smirk. “She’ll never find another male of your worth, Brother. In fact, when you and Aurora are wed, we should send her an invitation–let her choke on her own bitterness when she sees what she threw away.”
“I told you before.” Caelum said, his brow furrowing, “Aurora and I are only friends.”
“Friends?” Giselle scoffed. “Brother, you can’t fool us. Aurora has always been your white moonlight. The only reason you ever married Freya was because Aurora left the country. You were desperate, and you settled. Now you’re free–finally free- to be with the one you’ve always wanted.”
Eleanor nodded firmly, her voice decisive. “No more pretense between family. I know your heart, Caelum. Give it some time, and I’ll see to it that your bond with Aurora is made official.”
Caelum said nothing. Weariness rolled through him like a storm, heavier than armor on his shoulders. Without another word, he turned away and ascended the stairs to his chamber.
Even his own mother and sister refused to believe Aurora was only a friend.
Was it his fault? Had his actions, his choices, sown too much confusion?
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Chapter 70
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Yes, he had once admired Aurora–long ago, when she had pulled him back from the brink, when she had been untouchable beauty and status as the Beta’s daughter. For the wolf he had been then, she was both savior and distant star.
But admiration had been something he buried deep, disguising it as “gratitude,” as repayment for a life–debt. He had never dared dream of more.
And later, when he had bound himself to Freya, he had sworn to honor that bond. Even when Aurora returned, even when his heart still stirred with remnants of old longing, he had never once betrayed his vows.
Still, he had wanted to treat Aurora with kindness, to keep her close–but he’d hidden behind the word “friend,” thinking it would shield him.
Yet to the world, it seemed a hollow shield. To Freya, it had been nothing but hypocrisy. Her bitter words came back to him, sharp as claws: that he only feared guilt, only sought to preserve his honor, using “friendship” as a mask.
Caelum pulled the crimson–bound divorce decree from his pocket. His wolf snarled at the sight of it, his mouth filling with the taste of ash and bitterness.
The sharp ring of his phone broke the silence. Aurora’s name lit the screen.
For a moment, he considered letting it go unanswered. But no–he had questions for her as well.
He accepted the call. Aurora’s voice trembled through the speaker, tinged with unease. “Caelum… where are you? I need to see
you.
“Where are you now? I’ll come to you,” he said, his voice clipped.
“I’m still at the airport,” she replied softly. “I’ve just come from the vice president’s office.”
Normally, her tone would have triggered his instinct to soothe, to offer comfort. But tonight, his heart was hollow, drained of
words.
“I’ll be there,” he said shortly, and cut the line.
Aurora lowered her phone, her delicate fingers tightening around it, teeth sinking into her lower lip. Fear flashed across her pale features.
Caelum Grafton could never know the truth. The Alpha’s savior could only ever be her.
Half an hour later, Caelum strode into the vast airport hall. His gaze found her at once–Aurora, standing alone, eyes rimmed red, her usual poise stripped away. She looked fragile, pitiful, her wolf diminished to a trembling shadow.
And
yet
the storm in Caelum’s chest only grew heavier.