Ss‘ POV
Finished
The air still thrummed with tension when I saw Caelum Grafton copse to the ground, his scream cutting sharp through the manicuredwn. His right hand hung at an unnatural angle, a crimson ribbon trailing from the twisted joints. Instinctively, my wolf surged. My Alpha senses red–not for dominance, not for show–but for the protection for Freya.
Aurora rushed forward, her Beta pride faltering as she caught him mid–fall. “Alpha Whitmor!” she hissed, fury spiking her tone. “Even you, feared across the Capital<b>, </b>cannot-” Her words dissolved in disbelief when her eyes met mine. Especially since this was over Freya. My Freya.
I let her words hang in the air, meaningless. To anyone outside the circle, I was merely a man of power. But to my wolf, to my instincts, anyone who threatened Freya was my prey, my adversary. My jaw tightened. I would tolerate nopromises. Not here, not now.
“Anyone withints,” I said, voice low and steel–edged, reverberating in the space between the gathered guests, “may address them with my legal counsel. But anyone who dares harm Freya Thorne? I will not let a single one escape.” My words were calm, measured–but every syble carried the gravity of an Alpha who would tear the world apart for his mate.
I didn’t pause for dramatic effect. My boots pressed the grass as I moved toward her, my arms shifting to cradle her body effortlessly. Freya’s protest was immediate, sharp, thoughced with the amusement I hade to know. “I can walk,” she said, voice tinged with embarrassment. Her injured arm, not her legs, made this pose slightly unnecessary–but my wolf would not allow her to risk further harm.
“I do not trust anyone to handle you but me,” <b>I </b>said, voice t, the wolf in my chest vibrating with protective hunger. Freya’s head tilted back, a faint smile ying across her lips. She always had a way of softening the storm in me, even when the world–or Caelum tried to bring it to a boil.
The staff from the Orphanage and my Whitmore guards fell into ce around us, coordinating quietly as I carried her away from the chaos. The press followed, snapping photos, but I was oblivious to the cameras<b>. </b>My focus was entirely on her–the faint pulse of her blood, the shallow rhythm of her breath, the subtle tension in her wounded arm.
Once we were safely in the armored vehicle, I gently rolled up the sleeve of her cream–colored jacket. A thin smear of blood glistened along the torn fabric. My fingers hovered over it, unwilling to touch too soon, fearing her reaction. “Does it hurt?” I asked, my voice tight.
Freya shrugged, herposure unbroken. “It’s fine.” But my wolf did not believe her. I could sense the twinge of pain in her aura, could smell the iron tang of blood, could feel the tremor beneath her calm.
<b>“</b>You are lying,” I murmured, voice almost a growl. I bandaged the shallow gash carefully, my hands moving with both precision and possessive care. Each second I spent tending her wound, my wolf curled closer, protective, territorial. Whoever dared cross her path would feel my wrath–and they would remember it.
Freya’s lips curved into that faint, mischievous smile that never failed to disarm me. “Really, it’s nothing. By the way… did you just… break Caelum’s hand?” Her voice was soft, teasing, though she watched me carefully for my
“Yes,” I admitted, eyes locked on hers, scanning every flicker of expression, every microreaction. “D
you me me?”
Her lips pressed together, thoughtful. My chest clenched<b>, </b>jealousy and possessiveness gnawing at me. Caelum had once been someone Freya considered–someone she might have trusted with her future. If there were lingering threads of affection, I would cut them all away with teeth and ws if necessary. The wolf inside me snarled at the thought of any other man standing in her path.
Freya’s voice pulled me back, steadying me<b>. </b>“Why would I me you? I kicked him first, remember? If anyone <b>deserves </b>scorn, it would be me for letting him get that close in the first ce.”
Relief and a shiver of pride ran through me. My wolf eased slightly, tail flicking with satisfaction. Yet the tension lingered- the need to ensure no one ever threatened her again, to cement my ce as her protector, her Alpha<b>, </b>her shadow.
“What if he tries to sue?” Freya asked, brow furrowing in a rare hint of hesitation.
“Then let him,” I said, <b>voice </b>cold as steel. “It was an <b>ident</b>… my ‘miscalction. The Whitmore legal team <b>will </b>handle <b>the </b>rest. Caelum will receive <b>no </b>satisfaction beyond his own <b>pain</b><b>.</b><b>” </b>I allowed my eyes to flick to <b>hers</b>, letting <b>her </b>see the
8:07 PM
unwavering resolve in them.
Finished
Inside, my wolf was still restless. Freya’s pulse, her warmth, her very presence set it on edge. Every beat of her heart reminded me that I would guard her with everything I had. No man, no rival, no outsider would ever stake im to even a fragment of her attention.
Back at the Whitmore estate, I worked with meticulous care to redress her wound. Each motion was deliberate, gentle, protective. “If I had known they woulde for you…” I muttered, a rare hint of vulnerability in my tone, “I should never have left.”
Freya smiled, a soft, wry thing that made the storm in me recede, if only slightly. “I am not defenseless<b>,</b>” she said, amusementcing her voice. “I do not need a bodyguard at every moment. I was careless this time, nothing more.”
Her words soothed the beast inside me, yet my wolf still circled, vignt, scanning, ready to strike at any who dared draw near. Sheughed lightly, eyes crinkling as she recalled a moment from earlier. “I liked watching you y tag with the children,” she said. “It’s… strange, seeing you like that. Almost… human, almost free. I like that side of you.”
I paused, a shiver running through me at her confession. “You like that version of me?” I asked quietly, leaning close, aware of the scent of her hair, the warmth of her skin, the faint iron of her blood.
“Yes,” she whispered, eyes softening. “But I like all of you. I just wish… we had met sooner.”
The words struck me harder than any blow. My wolf stirred restlessly, sensing theyers of regret, longing, and missed time. If we had met earlier, she would have been mine wholly, unchallenged, free from the distractions of other men, free from the shadows of her past,
“Yes,” I murmured, voice husky, almost a growl. “If only we had.”
The thought settled in my chest like molten metal. I would not waste another moment. She would have no other men<b>, </b>no interference. I would guard her, walk beside her through every trial, every danger, every sunrise. My wolf would not yield. My life would belong to her.
And so, I vowed silently: No one touches Freya Thorne. No one threatens her. No one but me will ever share her light.
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