Third Person’s POV


    Aurora’s face nched, horror ring in her eyes as she stared at Freya.


    s


    “You… you’re spouting lies!” she shouted, her voice trembling. “I don’t even smoke. How could the border fire have anything to do with me? I was part of the rescue effort–I saved lives!”


    Caelum’s jaw tightened, his silver–grey eyes shing with fury. He stepped forward, cing himself between the two women, his aura sharp with Alpha dominance. “Freya,” he snarled, “how far are you willing to go? You’ve attacked Aurora again and again, you’ve already cost her her position in the Bluemoon Airborne Wing. Isn’t that enough?”


    Freya’s lips curved into a bitter smile. “Enough? You really believe I’m persecuting her?” Her gaze burned, unflinching as it locked onto Aurora. “No, Caelum. I haven’t done nearly enough. It’s her own trail of sins. that stripped her of her post–not me.”


    “She’s done no such thing!” Caelum barked, his wolf snapping through his voice. “Even if she failed to saverades that night… it was fear. Any wolf would have been afraid in that inferno. That doesn’t make her <i>a </i>monster.” He swung his gaze back toward Aurora, his tone softening. “She fought the mes. She saved others. That’s what matters.”


    Freya’sposure cracked; a growl trembled in her chest. “So her silence means nothing? She concealed the truth, soaked up praise, epted medals and honor she never earned. Does that not weigh on you?!” Her eyes glowed faintly gold, her wolf pressing against the edges of her control. “And worse than that—she hid her guilt. She wasn’t simply a coward in that ze. She was the spark. The cause. That fire began because of her.”


    Aurora’s head snapped up, panic surging through her scent. “Lies! I told you–I don’t smoke. How could a discarded cigarette have been mine?”


    Freya gave a cold, cuttingugh. Then, with a flick of her wrist, she hurled a handful of glossy prints at Caelum’s chest. The photographs fluttered through the air, several striking against his face before sliding to the dirt.


    “They tell a different story,” Freya said. “Look at them. Aurora’s ‘innocence‘ is nothing but smoke and ash.”


    Caelum bent, scooping up the photos. His eyes widened, the color draining from his face. Each image captured Aurora with a cigarette pinched neatly between her fingers, her lips parting to exhale smoke in practiced streams. There was no awkwardness, no hesitation. She wasn’t a novice. She was practiced-


    seasoned.


    His mind spun. He had believed Aurora despised smoking, that she avoided it with disdain. He had never once seen her indulge. Yet here, fryzen in film, was proof that she had been lying for years.


    Aurora’s own breath hitched, her mask cracking. These these can’t be real,” she stammered, her voice rising to a shrill pitch. “They’re fabricated–yes, forged! Someone stitched them together!”


    “Then test them,” Freya said icily, her eyes glinting with challenge. “We’ll see whose lies stand when the ink is stripped away


    Caelum pressed his lips into a tight line, his thoughts a whirlwind Atst, he said hoarsely, “Even if even


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    13


    09:24 Wed<b>, </b><b>17 </b>Sept W


    <b>+5 </b>Free Coins


    if she smoked… that doesn’t prove she caused the fire. The Fire Corps and the tribunal already ruled. They said it was the Beta co–pilot–he died, his cigarette was found at the site. That was the verdict.”


    “That verdict was convenient,” Freya shot back, her furyshing out like ws. “The co–pilot was dead. Easy prey to pin it on. He could not speak, could not deny. If he had lived, do you really think he would have carried that me?”


    Caelum’s expression hardened, conflict warring in his eyes. “You have nothing,” he said. “No evidence-”


    Before he could finish, Freya’s hand darted into her coat. She drew out another set of prints and flung them at his chest. This time, the images were sharper, crueler: still frames from old surveince footage, carefully restored. Aurora, at the edge of the border runway. A lit cigarette glowing between her fingers. Her hand flicking it to the ground. Ten minutester–the fire had raged.


    “Here.” Freya’s voice was like a de across stone. “These are from the restored tapes. This was Aurora, standing exactly where the ze began. Ten minutes before the inferno swallowed. Tell me again it wasn’t her.”


    Caelum’s hands shook as he gathered the photos. The face was blurred by shadow, but the silhouette–the curve of her jaw, the angle of her shoulders–he knew it. He knew it too well. Aurora. His Aurora.


    Aurora herself recoiled, her body trembling as if the earth had tilted beneath her. Her mind screamed questions. Who had filmed her that night? Who had hidden this evidence for so long? And how, in the name of the Moon, had Freya gotten her ws on it?


    “You’re framing me,” Aurora rasped, her voice brittle. “These shadows don’t prove anything. It could be anyone!”


    Freya stepped forward, her presence crushing, her wolf surging through her every breath. “Let the courts decide. Let the Tribunal strip away the lies. But understand this, Aurora-” she closed the final distance, her voice dropping to a snarl-“I came here tonight not for their judgment. I came for mine.”


    Her fist snapped forward, colliding with Aurora’s cheek. The sound cracked through the night like bone splintering. Aurora stumbled backward, blood flooding her mouth, the world spinning. She would have hit the ground if Caelum’s arm hadn’t shot out to catch her.


    Aurora’s fingers pressed against her throbbing face, her eyes wide with disbelief and rage. “You dare strike me? Who are you toy a hand on me?!”


    Freya’s teeth clenched so hard her jaw ached. She seized Aurora by the cor, jerking her forward until their foreheads nearly touched. Her eyes zed molten gold, wolf fire burning behind them.


    “Who am I?” she hissed, every word vibrating with fury. “I am the sister of Eric Thorne. He burned in that fire–your fire. Five years he’s been gone, swallowed by the ashes you created. My brother. My blood. You stole him from me with your carelessness, your lies, your cowardice.” Her voice broke, then rose again in a roar. “Tell me, Aurora. Do I have the right to strike you now?”


    Aurora’s mouth opened, but no words came.


    Caelum froze, his heart lurching violently. He remembered–Freya had spoken once, briefly, of an older brother lost to the border fire, Eric Thorne, a warrior of the Iron Fang Recon Unit. A ghost swallowed by


    me.


    And if what Freya imed was true… if Aurora had been the one who cast the spark that consumed him-


    09:24 Wed, 17 Sept 0W.


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    The thought wed through him, threatening to split him apart. He stared down at the woman trembling in his arms, the woman he had trusted, the woman carrying his heir, and for the first time, a seed of dread took root in his chest. 1


    Could it be true?


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