Third Person’s POV


    66


    <b>+5 </b>Free Coins


    Victor’s face was as dark and cold as winter steel when he and Lana stepped out of the shabby inn. He looked at her as if she owed him a debt she could never repay.


    For Luna’s sake, wasn’t she supposed to be praised for drawing such a sharp line with an ex- lover?


    Why did he look as if he expected her to confess that she still wanted him–wanted to im him–before he would be satisfied?


    Years ago, she had overheard his friends questioning his taste.


    “Victor, why are you wasting time with Lana? She’s… in. Not a spark of fire in her. Don’t tell me you’re just tired of feasts and wanted some nd porridge for a change?”


    “Exactly. Nothing special about her. Do you realize how many Pack daughters and she–wolves with Alpha bloodline would kill for your attention?”


    And then one friend had asked the question that had lodged like a thorn in her chest:


    “Victor, don’t tell us you’re serious about her?”


    She had been standing outside the door, her heart in her throat, praying–begging—that he would say yes. That even if she was in, even if she was nothingpared to those dazzling she–wolves, he still wanted her.


    But the words that came through the door had frozen her marrow.


    “Serious? No. She’s just… something to pass the time.”


    At that moment, Lana felt as if the earth had split beneath her feet, dropping her into a pit of ice.


    What she thought had been a fated bond, a rare spark of true affection, was nothing more than a distraction for him.


    She had once thought herself lucky. Reality proved she was pathetic.


    She didn’t even remember how she had stumbled away from the doorway, only that she hadn’t had the courage to barge in and confront him.


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    <b>10:15 </b><b>Tue</b><b>, </b><b>Sep </b><b>16 </b>


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    66


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    Later, with trembling hands, she had called him. Her voice had been steady only because her heart was already in pieces.


    “It’s over,” she had said.


    He’d only answered with one cool question: “You don’t regret this?<b>” </b>


    “I don’t.” That was the lie she forced out.


    And that was it. They severed whatever tie they had. No dramatic fight. No desperate plea. Just silence.


    From then on, they had lived their lives without ever crossing paths. Just as he had said, she was merely something to pass the time. Without her, he could always find another distraction.


    She had thought she would never see him again.


    Yet fate, cruel as it was, forced them to collide in humiliating ways. Twice now, after so many years. And both times, she had felt as if the Moon Goddess herself were mocking her.


    As they parted ways outside the inn, Lana didn’t bother with goodbyes. She turned sharply, crossed the road, and slid into her WolfComm–driven car. Without another look back, she drove away, as though speed itself could outrun the shadow of Victor Ashford.


    Because truly–she and Victor were better off never meeting again.


    “Lana, what’s with you? You’ve been spacing out thesest few days.”


    Freya’s voice broke into her thoughts, dragging her back from memories she’d rather leave buried.


    “Ah!” Lana jerked, her wolf bristling in embarrassment. She had tried–truly tried–not to think about Victor, but her mind betrayed her again and again.


    Was this what they meant when they said first loves were unforgettable?


    Damn it. Forgettable or not, she had to bury it.


    Shaking her head, Lana forced her voice calm. “It’s nothing. I was just wondering when Kade will finish digging up the truth about that man Aurora went to the inn with.”


    That, at least, was true. The matter gnawed at her like a wolf chewing bone.


    Freya narrowed her eyes. Her instincts as both warrior and strategist’s bloodline made her sharp. “It won’t be anything good.”


    10:15 <b>Tue</b><b>, </b><b>Sep </b><b>16 </b>


    66


    s


    She could already smell the rot clinging to Aurora’s story. The Bluemoon Beta’s daughter had built her rise on fragile lies–Freya could feel it in her bones. The woman had imed to be Caelum Grafton’s savior once, but the details never lined up. And there was still the fire years


    ago…


    Aurora had been thest to see the co–pilot alive before the ze took him. The man’s death had been ruled the earliest of all casualties, pinned on an unextinguished cigarette butt.


    Freya had investigated that scene herself. The ce where the fire started wasn’t somewhere people usually passed. Which meant–if Aurora had been there, if she had truly seen the co- pilot burn–then she must have also seen who had thrown that cigarette.


    So why had she said nothing?


    Why had she let the me fall neatly on the dead man’s shoulders?


    A normal wolf might remain silent out of guilt. To watch someone die and do nothing would weigh heavily on the conscience.


    Unless… Aurora had been protecting the real culprit.


    Or worse<b>–</b>she had been the one with the cigarette.


    Freya’s wolf bristled at the thought, a low growl vibrating in her throat. Secrets like these could bring down entire packs if left to fester.


    And Aurora, with her polished smile and newly earned wings in the Bluemoon Airborne Wing, was hiding far too much.


    10:15 <b>Tue</b><b>, </b><b>Sep </b><b>16 </b>