Freya’s POV
P:
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65
s
I pulled into the underground garage, the hum of my WolfComm silencing as I shut the engine. The air always carried that metallic tang of the city packs, but tonight it felt heavier, pressing against my chest.
When I stepped into the apartment, I froze. Ss was already there. He sat on the leather sofa, shoulders broad and posture sharp, flipping through a thick stack of documents. The light from themp cut across his scarred jawline, making him look every inch the Alpha of the Irond Coalition–unyielding, unreadable.
But the moment his eyesnded on me, all that iron melted. He dropped the papers at once
and stood.
“You’re back,” he said, voice low, carrying a weight that vibrated through the air between us.
I moved closer, my boots echoing softly against the floor. For a moment, I just looked at him, the man who had be the one constant in this chaotic world.
He hesitated, gaze narrowing as it fell on my face. “Freya… your eyes. They’re red. Have you been… crying?<b>” </b>
Before he could finish, something inside me snapped. I crossed the space in two strides and threw myself into his arms, burying my face deep in his chest. His scent–earth, steel, and the faint burn of wildfire–engulfed me, steadying the storm in my veins.
Ss stiffened in shock. I knew why. In his eyes, I had always been the strong one. The wolf who survived exile, betrayal, even rejection by the Silverfang Alpha Caelum. Tears were a luxury I couldn’t afford. But my eyes must have betrayed me now.
Had someone hurt me? Had the world pushed me too far? He didn’t know the truth–that the tears had fallen not from pain inflicted tonight, but from the memory of a voice I thought I’d never hear again. Eric’s voice. My brother’sughter, carried through a fragment of drone footage from the Iron Fang Recon Unit. Five years gone, yet for a moment, it felt as if he were still alive<b>, </b>still here.
And then, walking into this apartment, seeing Ss sitting there, calm and waiting… the feeling hit me like a de to the chest. Home. Not the Silverfang Pack that had chained me to Caelum. But here. With him.
My lips trembled against his shirt as I whispered, “Just… let me hold you for a while.”
10:17 <b>Tue</b><b>, </b><b>Sep </b><b>16 </b>
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65
s
His chest rumbled with <b>a </b>sound almost like a growl, but it was softer–an Alpha’s vow given without words. “Alright,” he murmured. “Take all the time you need.”
I stayed like that, cocooned in his warmth, until the ache in my throat eased. Finally, I forced myself to lift my head. My eyes were burning, hazy with mist, the wolf within me pacing restlessly at the bond stirring in my core.
“Tell me what happened,” Ss said, his voice rough. His fingers brushed against my cheek with surprising gentleness, tracing away the wetness at the corner of my eyes. “Who made you cry? Just give me their name, Freya, and I’ll make sure they regret it.”
The fire in his tone was rare. Ss was the kind of Alpha who looked at the world with
indifference, his emotions forged into iron long ago. But for me–just for me–his rage burned hot and unrestrained.
My chest squeezed at the thought, and instead of breaking down again, I found myself smiling. A bitter, helpless curve of my lips. “It’s not what you think,” I rasped.
The truth was simple. Since my parents–Arthur and Myra–were buried in the Ashbourne Legion’s Hall of Martyrs, I hadn’t known what family felt like. I thought marriage to Caelum would give me that, but the Silverfangs never once treated me as kin. I was an ornament, an outcast, a means to an alliance that had long since rotted.
But here, with Ss… the moment I turned the key and stepped inside, something in me whispered: you’re home.
I pressed my forehead against his chest again, exhaling a shaky breath. “Ss… how am I supposed not to love you when you’re like this?”
His body stiffened. Slowly, almost unwillingly, he pulled back just enough to meet my gaze. “What… did you just say?” His voice cracked, a rare fracture in the armor of an Alpha. “You… love me?”
The disbelief in his expression nearly undid me. For so long, he’d carried his devotion silently, never asking for anything in return. Maybe he thought he wasn’t worthy. Maybe he thought my heart was still chained to Silverfang.
But I knew my truth now.
I nodded, steadying my breath, letting the certainty harden my voice. “Yes, Ss. I love you. I love you.”
The words shattered something inside him. His eyes red with a primal glow, wolf–gold shining as a tear slipped down his cheek before he could stop it. Ss Whitmor, the Alpha forged of steel, was crying.
10:17 Tue<b>, </b><b>Sep </b>16
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? (6)
s
My heart lurched. Before I could say another word, his arms crushed me to him, strong enough to squeeze the air from my lungs. “Freya… you can’t take that back. Not now. Not ever. You said it–you’re mine. You can’t regret it, you can’t walk away.” His voice shook, thick with desperation and something dangerously close to prayer.
I lifted a hand, stroking his back as though soothing a wolf on the edge of breaking. “I won’t regret it. I won’t take it back. I meant every word. I love you, Ss. You’re the only one.”
His breath hitched like he’d been drowning and finally found air. He buried his face against my hair, repeating my name like it was the only tether he had to reality. “Freya… Freya…”
I cupped his face, pulling back just enough to see him clearly. The strong Alpha who feared nothing—yet trembled now because of me. A tear still stained his cheek, and I couldn’t help butugh softly, brushing it away. “You told me not to cry, and now look at you.”
“I’m not sad,” he said hoarsely. “I’m… happy. Gods, Freya, I didn’t even know I could feel this happy.”
His joy was so raw, so consuming, that it wrapped around me like a second heartbeat. For the first time in years, I let myself believe in a future not chained to sorrow.
“Then let’s hold onto this,” I whispered, voice firm despite the tears burning my throat. “We’ll face everything together. And when I find Eric, I’ll tell him the truth–that you are the man I chose. The man I love.”
Ss’s wolf surged in his chest, a low growl rolling out—not a warning, but a vow. His arms locked around me once more, unbreakable. And for the first time in a long, long while, I didn’t feel alone.
<b>3/3 </b>