Third Person’s POV


    s


    Aurora’s confidence had always bordered on arrogance, but this time, it glimmered with something sharper–desperation.


    She had spun a tale for Caelum, the Alpha of Silverfang Pack, a story that cast her as the loyal savior and painted Freya in the shadows. She spoke it smoothly, her voice warm, eyes filled with crafted sincerity. Yet somewhere deep inside, Aurora knew the threads of her lies were fragile, like spider silk stretched too thin across a storm.


    Freya’s allies, however, were not so easily deceived. Lana had caught the scent of falsehood first, her hackles raised, her instincts snapping like jaws. Kade’s anger had followed quickly, his sharp words tearing at the quiet evening air as if he were tearing flesh.


    “She’s lying,” Lana hissed, pacing like a wolf caged too long. “Freya would never mistake something like this. That means Aurora must have woven the lie herself.”


    Kade’sugh was cold, cruel, his teeth bared in something that was not quite humor. “How amusing. To think Caelum has been fooled so thoroughly. I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he realizes he’s crowned the wrong wolf as his so–called savior.” His voice dropped into a snarl, bitterness echoing through the dim chamber. “Truth is, my sister should have left him to drown in that river. Would have saved us all the trouble.”


    Lana nodded, fury sparking in her amber eyes. “Exactly. And now? We can’t just let those two run free–parading around as though their betrayal and ambition mean nothing. Aurora and Caelum deserve to choke on the mess they’ve made.”


    The name Caelum sent heat rippling through the air, an Alpha of terrifying presence and relentless ambition. Yet even he had fallen prey to Aurora’s poisoned sweetness.


    Kade leaned back, his words deceptively casual, but his eyes burned like wildfire. “Don’t worry. They won’t walk away unscathed. I’ll see to it that Caelum and Aurora perform the finest tragedy the packs have seen. For Freya’s sake, they’ll pay.”


    His gaze gleamed with a predator’s promise.


    Aurora, meanwhile, wasted no time tightening her snare.


    Two dayster, she led Caelum to a secure node of the Ironhold Consortium. Her manner was calm, her smile faint but steady as the final seals were signed. The Consortium’s representative transferred the funds swiftly.


    <b>10:17 </b>Tue<b>, </b><b>Sep </b>16


    :


    65


    s


    Fifty million credits. A staggering sum, sliding like blood into the veins of Caelum’s ounts. Relief washed over his features the moment the transaction cleared.


    Aurora leaned closer, her tone rich with sweetness, but her eyes gleamed like a hawk’s. “Tonight we drink, Alpha. Let us celebrate not only your triumph, but the future. With this strength, SilverTech Forgeworks will rise higher, stronger. I’ve always believed in you, Caelum. I’ve never doubted you chose the right path.”


    Her words were spun silk, carefully woven, and Caelum–driven by pride as much as ambition -let himself believe.


    He pulled her into his arms, the weight of his Alpha presence pressing even in his intoxicated relief. “Aurora, I will not let you down. I’ll prove it. To you. To everyone. They’ll see I didn’t climb with Freya’s shadow beneath me. They’ll know I built SilverTech with my own ws.”


    Aurora’s smile widened, smooth as moonlight on ice. The funds now flowed exactly where she wanted them—shielding her from the hounds of Lee, the private investigator she had feared, and binding Caelum ever tighter in her grasp. Two birds struck with one precise stone.


    That night, back in the vi, she uncorked a bottle of dark crimson wine. The liquid shimmered like blood as she poured it into crystal. Caelum drank deeply, his throat working, his words tumbling out, loose and bitter, edged with the tang of too much truth.


    “Clouds and shadows,” he muttered, his voice thick, “I’ll show them. Everyst one who doubted me. Without Freya Thorne, without her cursed name, I’ll rise higher than ever. They’ll bow to Silverfang’s Alpha, and they’ll choke on it.”


    Aurora pretended to drink, letting the ss hover at her lips, but only the scent of the wine touched her tongue. She smiled again, a smile polished and perfect.


    Soon Caelum’s body sagged against the sofa, his WolfComm slipping from his hand. He muttered once more, incoherent, then fell silent. His chest rose and fell heavily, the Alpha deep in the vulnerable pull of sleep. The ss tipped from his ck hand, crashing against the marble floor, dark liquid spreading like spilled lifeblood across the carpet.


    Aurora set her own ss down and crouched beside him. Her hand brushed his jaw, lingering, almost tender. “Caelum? Caelum.”


    He didn’t stir.


    Satisfied, her lips curved. She lifted his WolfComm and pressed his hand to the device, unlocking it with the ease of his fingerprint. The glow of the banking interface shone against her face like moonlight, promising power at her fingertips.


    But then-


    <b>10:17 </b><b>Tue</b><b>, </b><b>Sep </b>16


    …


    65


    <b>+5 </b>Free Coins


    A sharp wave churned in her stomach. The triumph drained from her face as nausea wed at her throat. She clutched her belly, bolted for the washroom, and copsed over the sink.


    Her retching echoed harshly in the tiles.


    It was long before the sickness ebbed. Weak but trembling with strange exhration, Aurora rinsed her mouth, wiped her lips, and raised her head to meet her own reflection.


    Her pupils shone with triumph. Her hand crept slowly, almost reverently, to her stomach.


    Her cycle had always been punctual. A week past due. And now,


    now, the nausea–sudden, undeniable. The realization unfurled within her like a dark bloom.


    A child.


    Caelum’s child.


    A rush of savage satisfaction swept through her veins. Her whisper was soft, intimate, dangerous.


    “If I carry your heir, Caelum, you won’t be able to turn from me. You’ll make me your Luna. You’ll forgive everything. You’ll be mine, bound as tightly as your oath to the moon.”


    Her eyes glittered like a wolf with prey pinned beneath her paws.


    The world had cast her out, stripping her of her ce, her name, her allies. She was a Beta’s daughter disgraced, shunned, a shadow. Friends had fled, whispering curses, as though her ruin was contagious.


    But if she bore Caelum’s pup?


    The game would change.


    No longer would Aurora stand alone. She would chain Silverfang’s Alpha with blood itself. The child within her would be her greatest weapon, her most unbreakable bond,


    And she would never, ever let go.