Third Person’s POV
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+8 Pearls
On the trail leading toward the ceremonial grounds, Ssr’s voice broke through the coastal wind. His tone was low, steady, yet carried the weight of an Alpha whose words rarely fell without purpose.
“You’ve truly severed all ties with Caelum Grafton?”
Freya lifted her gaze toward the horizon, the salt air tangling with her scent. “What else would you call it? Whether those two rings were cast into the sea or left behind, the bond was already broken. When I abandoned them on the bedside table and walked out of the Silverfang estate, I had already shed that life. I had no use for rings, no use for vows, and no use for him.”
She had not expected Caelum to bring the wedding bands here, like relics dragged from a grave.
Ss’s expression remained cool, though the faintest ripple of a smile crossed his face, softening the cold steel in his gaze for a fleeting moment.
“That’s good,” he murmured, and though his words were simple, there was something dangerous about the approval behind them–like an Alpha marking his choice in the presence of others.”
Elsewhere, in the guest wing prepared for the Bluemoon emissaries, Aurora’s hands shook as she stripped off her damp clothes. She scrubbed herself raw under the shower, but no heat of water could wash away the humiliation she had suffered. Fresh garments clung to her body when she stepped out, only to find Caelum seated heavily on a leather sofa, his eyes fixed on the open palm of his hand.
The rings. His thumb traced a ghost that was no longer there.
“Caelum,” Aurora ventured, her voice too sweet, too coaxing. “What’s on your mind?”
He blinked, startled, and quickly closed his hand as if caught. “Nothing.” His voice was firm but unconvincing. He rose slightly, searching her face. “You’re unharmed?”
Aurora’s lips curled into bitterness. “This is all Freya Thorne’s doing. She wants me dead, First she ripped away the ne, now even the ring you gave me. She won’t stop until I have nothing.”
“I’ll buy you better,” Caelum promised, his voiceden with guilt, “Everything she stole, I’ll rece.”
That cated her. A little.
But Caelum’s mind did not rest. “Aurora… why were you so panicked in the water earlier? You always swam well. Otherwise, you couldn’t have saved me back then, when the current nearly took me.”
Aurora froze, just for an instant, before stering her indignation across her face. “Are you using me? Do you think it wasn’t me who pulled you out of the river?”
He faltered, then shook his head quickly. “No. Not using. Only… it seemed strange.”
Her voice sharpened, defensive. “It was sudden. I’ve been abroad for years–without training, without practice. Anyone could freeze for a moment. If you truly doubt me, then stop calling me your savior. I never asked for that title. I told you before–I didn’t pull you from the water to chain you in obligation. Back then you were nothing, Caelum. I owed you nothing
Shame flickered across his face. Because he had doubted her. Because Freya’s shadow had seeped into his thoughts.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Aurora sighed, feigning graciousness. “Forget it. She’s poisoned you against me. But enough of this. Focus on the future. I’ve heard from the Thorne elders–the city council is interested in your drone initiative. Silver Tech Forgeworks may secure the partnership. You’re thriving now, Caelum. Without Freya, you’re stronger.”
His lips pressed into a thin line. He could not tell her that the proposal she praised was not wholly his. The designs were Freya’s work, drafted in the final months before she left SilverTech. The patent–her patent–tiled during their binding
It was theft dressed as enterprise.
+8 Pearls
Still, Caelum soothed his conscience with easy lies. She abandoned thepany. She abandoned me. Her work was ours, and what was ours, I imed. It belongs to SilverTech. It belongs to me.
The cornerstone ceremony began as dusk settled over the ind.
The gathering ce, ringed by banners of steel and cloth, filled with figures of power: government officials, council liaisons. and the scions of the major packs who had invested in the construction of the ind base. Their presence was more than ceremonial–it was a deration of dominion, a contest of who would stand tallest when the project waspleted.
Among the crowd, Ss Whitmor stood apart. Towering, dark, unmistakable, the Alpha of the Irond Coalition.manded attention with presence alone. At his side, Freya drew eyes that carried whispers with them. Not all of those whispers were kind.
Jocelyn’s re was sharp enough to cut stone. The heiress of Stormveil’s first branch had expected this day to be Freya’s undoing. She had wanted the world to see Freya as abandoned, discarded, humiliated–a she–wolf stripped of mate and standing.
But the tide had betrayed her.
It was Aurora who had been shamed. Caelum who bore the stain of weakness. And Freya who now stood in the shadow and strength of Ss Whitmor, the most unyielding Alpha in the Coalition.
Those who watched took note. The implication was clear.
ww
Jocelyn’s nails dug crescents into her palm. Her jaw tightened, fury smoldering beneath the mask of courtesy.
At her side, Abel Thorne, her uncle, leaned close. His voice was gravel, edged with warning. “Jocelyn. Ss Whitmor is not a man you can bend.”
She turned sharply toward him, eyes narrowed. “Uncle, you told me otherwise. You told me if I could bind him to me, the first branch would rise above the others. That was the n.”
“That was before,” Abel said tly. His gaze slid toward Freya. “Before she returned. Back then, perhaps you had a chance. Ss kept women at a distance, but he bore guilt toward you. He gave Stormveil favors, in business and war. But now…” He shook his head. “Now, the path is closed.”
jocelyn followed his eyes–straight to Freya, standing tall beside Ss, no longer the cast–off, no longer the broken mate. Her aura burned sharp, defiant, as if the Bloodmoon wolf within her had risen atst.
And Jocelyn knew.
The crowd knew.
Freya Thorne was not prey. She was not abandoned. She was dangerous.
The sea wind howled through the banners, carrying with it the scent of change.
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