Finished
Third Person’s POV
The studio lights burned like moons overhead, bright and merciless. Freya felt every stare as though it were a w scraping across her skin. Her heart had already been unsteady when Ss leaned down, his lips grazing the sensitive curve of her ear, his voice pitched low enough to rattle through her bones.
“Freya,” he murmured, the sound more growl than whisper, “you made our bond public. I can’t tell you how that makes me
feel.”
Her breath caught. Heat raced up the side of her neck, her ears prickling beneath the scrutiny of dozens of curious gazes. The Alpha of the Irond Coalition had never been subtle, but this was something else–iming her, here, before the eyes of the packs
Before Freya could recover, the sharp, unrestrained scent of Silverfang fury cut through the air. Caelum Grafton shouldered past the startled crowd, his amber gaze zing like a wolf caught in bloodlust. His voice carried, harsh andmanding, echoing through the cavernous hall.
“Where did you take Aurora?”
Freya froze. “What?”
The air shifted <i>at </i>once. Ss rose to his full height, his presence radiating a dangerous chill. His eyes, usually storm–gray, turned almost obsidian, a predator’s promise glinting within.
Caelum stepped closer, jaw tight, but before he could close the distance, Ss’s hand shot out, barring his path. His ws had extended, just enough to sh in the light, just enough to make a point.
“You want the other hand broken too?” Ss asked, voice pitched soft but lethal.
The temperature in the room seemed to plummet. Caelum faltered for a breath, the memory of his past wound flickering across his face<b>. </b>His wolf bristled but forced him to retreat half a step. Still, his gaze cut daggers toward Freya, as though she alone bore the weight of his rage.
“You’d better bring her back,” Caelum snarled, his voice cracking with the edge of desperation. “Aurora’s gone missing, and you’re the only one who would dare-”
Freya’s eyes shed, the Bloodmoon fire in her blood surging. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve been recording this entire time. I don’t
the gift of splitting myself in two.” Her tone was sharp, edged with insult.
“That’s rich,” Caelurn spat. He lifted a WolfComm, the sleek device glowing with the faint sheen of pack–tech. “Aurora’s phone. Found outside the rest chamber. But she–she’s gone. And thest call she received came from a strange number, one that goes dead every time I ring it.” His chest heaved, his fury barely contained. “Don’t y innocent, Freya. We all know you despise her. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t hire someone to finish what you started.”
The hall buzzed, wolves shifting uneasily, the scent of suspicion thickening in the air.
Freya’s lips curled, the Alpha–born daughter who had been scorned too long refusing to bow. “Then take your suspicions to the enforcers. File yourints. But if you dare use me of abduction without proof, I’ll make sure your precious SilverTech Forgeworks is dragged through the mud in the courts for defamation.” Her voice rose, sharp as a de. “And while we’re rifying–what exactly do you believe I ‘resent‘ her for?”
The Alpha faltered.
Freya pressed forward, her words tumbling out like ws raking across flesh. “For being the mistress you paraded in broad daylight? For worming her way into a marriage vow you treated like a contract to shred? Or perhaps I should resent the fact that while you bought me a trinket of rusted steel for a wedding band, you were slipping Aurora jewels worth more than five million into her palm.”
The hall erupted in murmurs, heads snapping toward Caelum. Those who had known him as Silverfang’s charismatic Alpha now stared with narrowed eyes. Betrayal, dishonor, infidelity–such things stank worse than rot among wolves. The once-uded savior of the packs suddenly looked like carrion.
Finished
Freya’s voice cut cleanly through the chaos. “No. I don’t resent Aurora. She isn’t worth the heat of that emotion. What I do is thank her. Because she tore away the veil from my eyes and showed me exactly what you were, Caelum. A man who never deserved three years of my loyalty.”
Caelum’s face twisted, his breath hissing like an animal cornered. “Then who else would want her gone? Who else, if not you?<b>” </b>
His suspicion clung like tar, thick and suffocating. His gaze darted toward Ss, the implication hanging sharp between them. Everyone could see the thought forming: Freya wanted vengeance, Ss had the power to deliver it.
Freya’s expression iced over. “Why don’t you find out, Alpha? Call your patrols. Alert your enforcers. Perhaps they’ll track her. better than your nose can.”
And then, as though summoned by the very gods, the hall’s massive screen flickered. The audience turned as one. The image changed from idle blue to the grainy feed of a hidden camera.
A derelict space filled the frame–an abandoned factory, littered with rusted pipes and dust.
Gasps rippled through the crowd as the figure on the floor came into focus. Aurora. Bound, gagged, her wings clipped by coarse rope.
Her body jerked when a shadowed hand pped her awake. The sound cracked through the speakers, harsh and jarring. Aurora blinked, disoriented, then screamed. “Who are you? Why am I here? Let me go!”
The camera shifted. The captor entered the frame–a lean male, his face hidden behind a crude mask. His voice slithered out, distorted and dripping venom.
“Who am I? The one here to bnce the scales. You think you’re a hero? A savior? You’re nothing but a murderer cloaked in glory.”
The room stilled. Aurora struggled, shaking her head frantically. “No! I’m not–please, you’ve made a mistake!”
The masked wolfughed, a chilling sound. Then, from a speaker off–screen, a recording crackled to life.
“Don’t… don’t go… Aurora… the extinguisher… I’m burning–please-!”
A dying man’s plea, raw and ragged, filled the hall. Every wolf’s ears pinned back at the sound. Aurora’s eyes went wide, her skin nching until she looked like death itself.
Freya stood frozen, her wolf straining against her ribs. Beside her, Ss’s growl thundered low, his aura wrapping around her like iron chains. Across the hall, Caelum’s face drained of blood, his fury cracking into something else–fear.
And the hall of wolves once skeptical, now boiled with unease. The so–called “hero” of the Bluemoon Airborne Wing was bound before their eyes, exposed by a phantom who imed to know her darkest sin.