Freya’s POV
The audio yed loud enough to strip the air from the room.
Finished
“Freya, aren’t you a retired soldier? Don’t you always like to parade your so–called kindness? Well, I’m giving you a chance to
prove
it now.”
Aurora’s voice–sharp, maniptive, dripping with venom–echoed through the studio.
The audience’s gasps fell into silence. A silence so thick I could hear the hum of the cameras capturing every second. Aurora’s face turned a blotchy red, herposure cracking like thin ss under a wolf’s w.
With a strangled sound, she lunged across the narrow space between us, fingers outstretched to snatch the WolfComm from my hand.
I blocked her with my free arm, my stance instinctive–military and wolf–born. She wasn’t taking anything from me.
The recording continued, merciless.
“As long as you apologize to me, and I’m satisfied, then of course I’ll pilot the helicopter. But if you don’t… if my mood sours, and my hands slip while flying, well–who knows what might happen? If those Bloodmoon employees trapped out there die because of dyed rescue, it’ll be on you.”
By the time thest word fell, the crowd was staring at her like she was a creature dragged from the shadows of the wilds- something foul and unrecognizable.
This was the Bluemoon Pack’s “hero“?
Aurora stumbled back, her face drained of all color. “N–no. That’s not real! It’s fabricated!” She forced a shrillugh that only made her look more desperate. “I didn’t use trapped civilians as leverage. I only… I only wanted an apology because Freya had smeared my name before.”
I rose slowly, holding the WolfComm loosely at my side, my eyes locking on hers. Cold. Unforgiving. “And what exactly did I smear you with, Aurora? Do
you have proof of these usations? If you don’t, then perhaps I should say you’re smearing me right now.”
Her lips twisted into a snarl, but her words faltered.
The audience watched, rapt. No one missed the dominance tug–of–war between us.
“You’ve got plenty of ways to hide evidence!” she hissed. “That doesn’t erase the fact that I flew to save lives!”
Myugh was low, sharp as a de’s edge. “Flew? Your craft never
reached the rescue site.”
Her spine stiffened, jaw jutting. “<b>I </b>was observing the situation! <b>If </b>your side failed, I was ready to intervene.”
“You mean–if my side seeded, you were ready to swoop in and im the glory.” My words struck like ws, raking deep.
Aurora’s nostrils red.]
And then, from the rows of seated rescuers, a voice cut through the tension like lightning splitting the sky.
“That’s not what you said on the aircraft.”
Every head turned. One of the men who’d been on Aurora’s chopper stood, face set with grim resolve. “I remember it clear. You said you wouldn’t risk advancing because your fiancé was on board. That if Freya’s craft encountered trouble, you’dnd <b>first </b>in a safe zone, drop Caelum Grafton, then maybe–maybe–you’d continue.”
The studio detonated in noise. Shocked cries, gasps, curses.
Aurora’s face nched as though her very blood had been drained away.
12
Finished
The host, ever the vulture circling chaos, pounced. “Miss Aurora… your fiancé boarded with you, yes? But isn’t the point of such a mission to save those in danger? Why would you prioritize dropping him off first? Isn’t that risking lives unnecessarily?”
Aurora’s throat bobbed. She forced a brittle smile. “He–he was there to help! To support the mission.”
I turned my gaze toward Caelum Grafton, seated stiffly under the spotlight of the entire hall. His hand was bandaged still, the lingering reminder of wounds taken in the chaos. He didn’t move, didn’t deny, didn’t confirm–just sat there like a wolf with his paw caught in an iron trap.
The host pressed harder. “Then why the hesitation? Why not fly straight in? Were you more concerned with protecting your fiancé than those waiting for rescue?”
The whispers from the crowd sharpened into outright usations.
“She never meant to fly in.”
“She brought him on board just to parade him around.”
“Unbelievable–using hostages as bargaining chips, now this?!”
Aurora trembled under their scrutiny, her aura copsing in on itself. Beta–blood or not, she was prey before the pack now.
The rescuer who had spoken first didn’t stop. His voice grew harder, louder. “Truth is, I don’t think she ever intended to save anyone. That helicopter never moved closer, not once. She sat back, making excuses, and waited. I asked myself that day if she was here to rescue, or to make sure her image stayed untarnished. Today, after hearing that recording? I don’t have to ask anymore.”
More voices rose in agreement, the other rescuers nodding, muttering their support. Some even called out from their seats.
“If she cared so much for her fiancé, she shouldn’t have dragged him along.”
“Heroes don’t gamble with lives for their own pride.”
“She’s not a savior. She’s a fraud.”
The swell of disdain rolled through the hall like a storm surge, impossible to stop.
Aurora’s lips worked soundlessly. She raised a trembling hand, pointing at the rescuer. “You–you’ve been bribed by Freya. How much did she pay you to say this?”
The man’s gaze was steady, unyielding as an Alpha’s vow. “I wasn’t paid anything. I speak what <b>I </b>saw, what I heard. I’d swear it before any Elder Council. This <b>is </b>the truth.”
Others nodded again, murmuring, their conviction forming a wall no lie could breach.
Aurora wilted before it, her body rigid, herplexion the ashen hue of defeat.
<b>Send </b><b>Gifts </b>