Third Person’s POV


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    The moment the kidnapper’s hand released her hair, Aurora copsed to the ground with a hollow thud. Before she could draw a steady breath, the man hefted a white stic container and upended its contents across her body. A recking liquid sshed over her uniform and skin, soaking her instantly.


    Aurora shrieked, thrashing against the ropes that bound her wrists. “No! Don’t-what are you doing?”


    The kidnapper’sugh was guttural, feral. “Doing? I’m giving you the same mercy you showed my father. Let’s see if you hallucinate while you burn alive.” He tipped another container, the pungent fumes stinging the air even through the live broadcast.


    In the studio, a horrified gasp rose from the audience. “Spirits above-this isn’t water. It’s oil! It’s fuel!”


    Caelum’s chest constricted as his gaze locked on the massive screen. His wolf strained inside him, ready to tear down walls, but he was caged by distance and circumstance. His ws dug crescents into Aurora’s discarded WolfComm device in his hand. His voice, raw with anguish, tore from his throat. “Why, Aurora? Why are you in this nightmare?”


    But no amount of dominance, nomand from the Alpha of the Silverfang Pack, could alter what the cameras showed. All he could do was trust that the City Guard or his pack’s trackers would find her before it was toote.


    He turned suddenly, fury sparking, eyes zing like molten steel as they fell on Freya. “This is your fault!” His voice cracked like a whip across the hushed studio. “If Aurora suffers even a scratch, if she burns alive -her blood is on your hands!”


    Freya’s amber eyes narrowed. Her wolf stirred, cold and indignant. “On my hands?” Her voice was low, dangerous. “Caelum, have you lost your mind?”


    “You schemed against her!” he roared, advancing, every step echoing with Alpha force. “You set her up during the interview, yed that cursed recording to humiliate her. If not for you, she never would have stormed back to the resting chambers, never would have been caught alone. You drove her straight into a predator’s jaws!”


    Freya’s lips curved into a sharp, bitter smile. The audience flinched at the sound-it was not theugh of a frightened she-wolf but of one who had long learned to bleed without breaking. “You’re still the same, Carlum. Always so eager to cast your guilt on others. If Aurora is your precious fiancée, where were you? Why weren’t you at her side when she left?”


    “You-“Caelum faltered, rage colliding with shame. His wolf snarled, but his human tongue stumbled. “Don’t twist this, Freya! If Aurora dies, I will never forgive you.”


    He had barely finished before Ss moved.


    With a blur of motion, the Irond Alpha drove his boot squarely into Caelum’s chest. The Silverfang Alpha crashed to the ground, air bursting from his lungs. His right hand, still bandaged from hisst battle, buckled uselessly beneath him. He tried to rise with his left, but Ss was relentless. Another brutal kick struck him down, sending him sprawling again on the polished floor.


    “You dare threaten Freya?” Ss’s voice was thunder, his aura flooding the studio like a crushing tide. His


    12:49 pm


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    wolf bared its fangs through him, promising blood. “Then hear me now, Caelum Grafton: if you so much as touch her, I will hunt you until one of us is ash and bone.”


    The words rang out like a blood oath, a vow of eternal vendetta. Not until death. Beyond death.


    Gasps rippled through those who stood nearest the stage. Though the wider audience could not hear over the roar of the broadcast, every wolf close enough felt the oath’s weight. The Irond Alpha had spoken, and his vow was poison and iron: Not even the grave will save you.


    Caelum’s eyes widened, shock battling with fear. The oath speared him through the gut, the venom of it lodging deep. His wolf trembled under the raw dominance, drenched in sweat though his body had barely moved.


    Freya stared at Ss, her chest tightening. She had known, of course-how could she not? Ss’s loyalty had always been obvious in the way his gaze lingered, in the battles he had fought at her side. But this? A vow like that was more than devotion. It was obsession. It was the kind of love wolves carved into their bones and bled with until theirst breath.


    For a heartbeat, warmth flooded her chest, unbidden, unsettling. Her wolf shifted, restless with recognition. If the room had been empty, if the pack eyes had not been burning into her back, she might have done something reckless-like answer that devotion with her lips.


    But the studio was not empty.


    And Caelum, bloodied but defiant, staggered upright once more. His re burned with desperation. “Freya Thorne,” he spat, “you’re nothing without Ss Whitmor shielding you. You hide behind him like a pup. If Aurora dies in mes, you’ll answer for it. Her innocence will weigh on your soul.”


    Freya turned slowly, her voice cutting like ice. “Innocent?” She lifted her chin toward the screen, where Aurora’s soaked body trembled under the kidnapper’s hand. “We don’t yet know if she is truly innocent.”


    “She is!” Caelum snapped. “Aurora is kind, selfless. She risked herself for others. She would never let someone burn alive!” His chest heaved with righteous fury, his words ringing with conviction. “There must be a reason-something we don’t understand!”


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