+8 Pearls


    Third Person’s POV


    Freya’s voice was steady, though her eyes carried the weight of grief. “Tomorrow I’ll be traveling to Ashbourne toy 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.”


    Ss‘ 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 Irond 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 oldmander’s sincerity, his worry for her clear. Yet if she refused, the burden would fall heavier om his shoulders.


    Her gaze shifted back toward Ss.


    “I require only three months,” Ss 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 ce,” he replied evenly. “At the end of three months, you may walk zway or stay, if you choose. The decision will be yours.”


    1


    Atst. 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 ced a heavy hand on her shoulder, his voice carrying the weight ofmand 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 bes extreme, your lifees 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, Ss remained. His gaze lingered on her, cool and assessing. “Tomorrow you’ll be in Ashbourne.”


    “Yes,” she sade


    “Shall I drive you home tootingin?” Ss edi.


    She shook her head “No need. I brought my own


    He epted 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 <b>in </b>hos vi


    The Alpha of the Silverfang Pack entered his odme cam cumber and anat i baren. The air felt cold, stripped of scent, of


    +8 Pearls


    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,y 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 in band onto her finger without a singleint. 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 be 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 hade 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 itter. Butter had nevere. It had slipped away, deemed unnecessary, forgotten amidst ambition.


    The pounding at the door grew louder, Giselle’s shrill cries cutting through.


    At <bst</b>, Caelum pulled the door open..


    His <b>sister </b>stared <i>at </i>him<b>, </b>wide–eyed. “Brother, are you all right?”


    Caelum’s <b>fist </b>clenched tightly around the two wedding bands, his face shadowed with bitterness.