+8 Pearls


    Third Person’s POV


    Aurora jolted awake in the dead of night, her breath ragged, her body slick with cold sweat. The shadows seemed to crawl closer, pressing against her, echoing the nightmare that had just strangled her sleep.


    “You dreamed again?” Caelum’s low voice came from the doorway. The Silverfang Alpha stepped in, his tall frame carrying bothmand and quiet concern. Ever since their return from the Stormveil negotiations, he had noticed the change in Aurora–the way her shoulders stiffened, the haunted look in her eyes, the nights broken by muffled cries.


    Aurora swallowed, forcing herself upright. “Mm,” she admitted, her tone faint, her hair clinging damply to her skin.


    Caelum’s gaze softened. “It’s because of what Freya did, isn’t it? The way she struck you down in front of everyone?” His voice carried that Alpha steadiness, but underneathy genuine worry. “If the memory won’t release you, perhaps you should speak to a healer… someone skilled in untangling the mind. It would keep scars from setting too deep.”


    Aurora gave a small nod, exhaling slowly. “Perhaps.” She knew better, though. It wasn’t Freya’s sudden re of dominance that haunted her. It was the WolfComm message that had appeared that same night–the one that called her murderer. The letters still burned in her mind, as though branded into her very soul.


    Who had sent


    it?


    She had tried to trace the number, wing at every lead, but it was a phantom–an unrooted signal, discarded and gone. Whoever had done this knew how to cover their tracks.


    Her chest tightened, and her pulse hammered louder in her ears.


    ???? ???? ???? ??? ???? ???? ???? ???? ???? ????


    Caelum moved closer, a cloth in hand, gently wiping the sweat from her brow. “You’re trembling. I’ll fetch you water. Stay here, Aurora.”


    She nodded again, watching as he turned to leave. But as the door closed behind him, his WolfComm chimed sharply. Aurora caught the sudden flicker in his face–his features tightening, his eyes shadowing–as he nced at the caller ID. Without hesitation, he stepped out into the hall and answered.


    Something in his posture made Aurora’s gut coil. In all the time she had known him, Caelum had never once avoided taking


    <b>a </b>call in front of her.


    Sliding from the bed, she padded silently to the doorway, pressing herself against the stone wall.


    “… It’s me,” Caelum’s deep timbre carried through the stillness. “You’ve found something? The one who pulled me from the river eight years ago–who it was?”


    Aurora froze. Her blood ran cold.


    So that was it.


    Caelum was still searching. Still digging for the truth of that night. The night he had nearly drowned.


    He had always sworn he trusted her–that it had been her, Aurora of the Bluemoon Pack, who had saved him. He had built their bond on that foundation, elevating her, giving her a ce at his side. And yet, secretly, he was still investigating. Still doubting.


    Her hands trembled. If he discovered the truth–that it had not been her, but Freya Thorne–everything she had fought for would crumble.


    Her ce at Caelum’s side. Her chance to rise as Alpha’s mate. Even her carefully woven path to one day be Luna of the Silverfang Pack. All of it would vanish like ash in the wind.


    could


    No. She could not allow that truth to surface.


    Her mind spun, ws of panic raking at her chest. And then, in a rush of instinct, she staggered forward, letting herself fall hard against the floorboards. Pain shot up her leg and she let out a sharp cry.


    Inside the hall, Caelum’s voice cut off mid–sentence. The call ended abruptly, footsteps pounding back toward her. He burst into the chamber, his wolf eyes ring at the sight of her copsed form,


    10:09 AM P P.


    “Aurora! What happened?” He knelt beside her immediately, his hands strong but careful as they slid beneath her.


    +8 Pearls


    “I… I felt my chest tighten. I tried toe find you… but I stumbled.” Her voice trembled,ced with just the right measure of vulnerability. Her lips pressed into a pained smile. “My foot… it hurts, Caelum. Will you… carry me back?”


    Without hesitation, he lifted her effortlessly, cradling her against him. The warmth of his aura enveloped her as he returned her to the bed.


    “I should still bring you that water,” he said softly, beginning to rise.


    But her arms shot up, locking around his neck. “Don’t go. Please.”


    Caelum stiffened, caught between instinct and hesitation. In his mind, Aurora had always been sharp–edged, resilient,manding in her own right. But here, now, she trembled like a fragile doe, her lips trembling as she bit them, her eyes shimmering with a fear he had never seen in her before.


    “I’ll only be gone a moment,” he murmured, voice gentling, almost coaxing.


    Her reply was not words but action. Aurora’s lips pressed to his, sudden and desperate.


    Caelum froze, his body locking beneath the unexpected weight of the kiss. Since arriving in Ashbourne, they had shared a roof, but never a bed. Though she had hinted before–brushed against him, lingered in his presence–he had resisted, something always holding him back.


    And that something had a name.


    Freya.


    Even now, even with Aurora’s lips moving against his, her scent flooding his senses, a ghost rose unbidden in his mind- Freya’s eyes, her wolf aura zing, her defiance cutting sharper than a de. It was maddening, like a thorn lodged too deep. to pull free.


    Aurora leaned closer, her gown slipping down her shoulder, baring pale skin. His breath caught, and he turned his head away sharply. But she pressed tighter, her wolf auraced with the scent of need.


    “It’s her fauit,” Aurora whispered, voice breaking. “Freya. She’s poisoned everything. She won’t let me be. Every night I dream of her humiliation, her rage. You divorced her, but she’ll never forgive me. Don’t leave me, Caelum. Stay. Just tonight.”


    Guilt washed through him. He had brought this upon her his failed marriage, his messy ties with Freya, the storm that seemed to follow him everywhere. Aurora’s anguish was real, he thought. Perhaps she was right.


    “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice low. “Because of my past with Freya, you’ve suffered


    Aurora shook her head fiercely, her eyes shimmering. “I don’t care. As long as you’re mine, I can endure anything. Even her wrath.” She pressed her lips to his again, more insistent this time. “From the moment I pulled you from the river that night… I wanted you. But only now do I understand how deep it runs, Don’t make me wait any longer, Caelum.”


    He hesitated, torn between the pull of her body and the phantom memory of another woman.


    And behind it all, the unspoken truth gnawed at the edges of his mind: the call he had ended too quickly, the truth left dangling on the other end of the line.


    The truth that Aurora feared more than anything.