Freya’s POV
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I had excused myself to the restroom. The chill of the air-conditioning brushed against my skin, and I was only halfway through when a familiar scent made me freeze. Jocelyn Thorne.
I turned, and our eyes met. Her expression was a mixture of surprise and thinly veiled resentment. She hadn’t expected to see me here, not at this upscale restaurant. But the surprise quickly morphed into something darker-hatred simmering just beneath the surface.
Her face hardened as her wolf recognized the truth before her human mind could fully process it: I had risen while she had faltered. In the blink of a season, she had gone from the darling of the Stormveil Pack’s Metropolitan branch to someone scorned, her influence waning visibly within the family and the business.
The Whispering Hall of the Thorne family-our ancestral seat-might have kept its ancient prestige, but in the corporate corridors of the Ironhold Consortium, her authority was evaporating. Important meetings no longer included her, and even those who had once fawned over her now looked at her with. thinly disguised contempt. Some had even said outright, their words dripping venom:
“Jocelyn Thorne, you really think you’re still the family’s princess? It was Ss Whitmor behind you all along. Without him, what are you worth?”
I had seen the subtle way her pack members’ auras withdrew from her, the way their support had be lukewarm. But Jocelyn had refused to ept it. She had tried, desperately, to leverage her connections with the other young heirs of Ashbourne, the moneyed second-generation wolves, hoping to consolidate influence and salvage her projects. She wanted everyone to see that she still had power-even without Ss, she could still dominate, or so she thought.
Yet here we were, intersecting paths at a restaurant in the Capital, and the roles had inverted entirely. Her scent was sharp, strained with envy and defensiveness, while I moved calmly, wolf and human aligned, grounded in the strength of my own pack, my own choices, and my bond with Ss.
“You think that because Ss stands behind you, you can be reckless?” she hissed, stepping closer, her words cutting. “You really think you deserve him? You can fly a ne, you can handle yourself inbat -but so what? The Whitmore Pack doesn’tck capable pilots or bodyguards.”
I leveled my gaze at her, cold, the scent of my wolf rising subtly to reinforce my presence. “So, you’ve turned Ss’ support for you into a weapon, a way to feel secure? Why do you need someone else to back you, Jocelyn? I am me. I have never relied on anyone to validate my worth. And as for deserving anyone…. if one must measure love or attachment by ‘deserve,’ then life itself is too sad a game to y.”
I could see her wolf bristle, ws of fury unsheathed. Her nostrils red, and her chest rose and fell with a mix of indignation and panic. “You’re fooling yourself if you think it willst! One day, he’ll abandon you just like he would anyone else!”
I didn’t have time to respond, because Ss’ presence shifted the air like a pack alpha asserting dominance. His voice, deep and dangerous, cut across the corridor. “That day will nevere, Jocelyn. And if you continue speaking to Freya like this, I promise you, you will have no ce in Ashbourne, nowhere to hide.”
I could see her flinch, startled by the sudden appearance of Ss at my side, his aura coiling and protective. Kade lingered just behind him, his wolf simmering, tense, but controlled. Jocelyn’s fear was
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palpable now, though it quickly mutated into something darker-jealousy, sharp as the edge of a fang.
Why would Ss protect me so fiercely? She hadn’t given him anything-hadn’t sacrificed, hadn’t bled, hadn’t risked herself for him the way she imed to have. And yet here he was, alpha and packmate, defending me against her venom. Her nostrils red, teeth lightly bared in frustration.
“Ss,” she spat, stepping closer, defiance masking the underlying panic, “what good is Freya to you? She’s a divorced woman! What can she sacrifice for you? An eye? A limb? Nothing. She wouldn’t dare!”
Ss didn’t flinch. He leaned slightly forward, his wolf in his chest bristling, every line of his body radiating authority. “I don’t need her to sacrifice anything for me. And her being divorced? That’s nothing but a fortunate circumstance-it gave me the chance to be at her side. As for you…” His voice sharpened, cutting like a de. “Your so-called sacrifice—the eye you unt-was never for me. It was because you had no other choice, no strength to resist, no wolf of your own to protect you.”
Her mouth opened, a protest forming, but I could hear the cracks in her confidence, her wolf’s fear and frustration mingling with her human arrogance. “That’s not true! Even if I could, I wouldn’t leave you behind!”
Ss’ amber eyes glinted with memory, wolf instinct coiling tightly around each word. “Would you have stayed? At the time, I begged you not to go. And yet you fled anyway, scrambling to escape. You abandoned me. Jocelyn. That is the difference between her and you.”
I watched silently, my own wolf rising in protective pride, sensing the pulse of tension, the history, the dominance and submission dynamics ying out. Jocelyn’s posture faltered, human pride wrestling with the truth her wolf could sense but her ego refused to admit.
“I was too young to understand, but my feelings were real!” she cried. “I loved you, Ss! I’ve loved you for years-how can Freyapare?”
Ss let out a low, resonant snort, wolf and human in perfect sync. “Love? You never understood what love means. When challenged, you abandoned. Freya never would. That is the difference.”
The subtle shift in the air was palpable as he turned his attention to me, amber eyes softening, the raw wolf energy behind them tempered by loyalty, by trust, by bond. I felt it wash over me like a tide- protective, possessive, unshakable.
He nced at me once more, voice calmer but firm: “Let’s return to the table. The food is getting cold.”
1:16 pm P PPS.