A Warrior Luna's Awakening (Freya and Caelum) novel Chapter 100

Chapter 100

Third Person’s POV

75%

Finished

Lana had seen enough to stiffen her hackles. Silas Whitmor, the Ironclad Alpha, stood claw–to–claw with Freya Thorne, and the sight was almost… tender. The infamous predator of the Ironclad Coalition, feared across the Capital, showing softness–it didn’t fit.

Beside her, Kade Blackridge’s wolf surged forward. He was halfway to storming in when Lana caught his arm, yanking him back.

“Not here,” she hissed under her breath. “This is Freya’s parents‘ burial, Kade. You want bloodshed at the Hall of Martyrs?”

Kade froze, jaw tight, lips pressed into a thin pale line. His gaze stayed locked on Silas and Freya.

Lana muttered low, “Don’t tell me the Ironclad Alpha actually likes her.”

The scene before them–silken and almost intimate was nothing like the cold, steel–edged image Silas carried. The way he looked at Freya… it wasn’t hatred. It wasn’t, indifference. It was possession. Perhaps even hunger.

Kade’s growl rumbled out, sharp as ice. He doesn’t love her. Don’t dream it.”

Lana arched a brow. “What’s this, then? Afraid your Freya’s going to be claimed? Relax. She just clawed her way out of a Lunar Severance with Caelum Grafton. The last thing she’ll want is another male sniffing

around.”

But Kade’s wolf wouldn’t be soothed. He had lost once before–lost her to Caelum, too late to even bare his heart before her bond had been sealed. He’d fled across oceans, burying his ache for three long years, thinking he could kill the hunger inside. But the moment he saw her again, his wolf had risen, feral and unrelenting. He had never stopped wanting her.

Part of him still wanted to tear Caelum apart for not treasuring her. Yet another part of him thanked the Silverfang Alpha’s arrogance–because without it, Freya might never have broken free.

Now, when he thought he might finally have a chance, another wolf had stepped between them. Silas Whitmor, of all wolves.

When the rites were done, Freya turned to Silas. “I won’t return to the Whitmor estate with you. I want to stay here awhile, at my parents‘ resting place.”

“I could keep you company,” Silas offered.

She shook her head firmly. “No. I want to speak to them alone.”

For a long moment, Silas’s silver eyes studied her. Then he dipped his head. “As you wish.”

He turned away, leaving Freya in the stillness of the graveyard. She stood before the stone markers carved with Arthur Thorne and Myra Brown’s names, staring at the black–and–white portraits fixed above them. Their smiles–bright, resolute, unwavering–shone even in death.

Her hands curled into fists, nails biting her palms. “I’m divorced now. I envied your bond, the way you lived and died as one. I didn’t have that fortune. My own bond shattered, and I won’t mourn it. I’ll live every day with my head high. My life is more than love. When I join you in the earth, I want to stand before you unashamed, proud to say: I was the daughter of Arthur Thorne and Myra Brown.”

here?”

Kade’s glare burned. “What if I do?”

Silas’s lips curved faintly, his tone flat as steel. “Then you won’t leave Ashbourne in one piece.”

From the sidelines, Lana ran forward, panic flashing in her eyes. “Enough! Both of you! You’re supposed to be Freya’s friends, not tearing each other’s throats out at her parents‘ burial!”

Neither wolf listened. Their eyes locked, power crackling in the air like a storm before the strike.

Kade’s voice dropped low, guttural, his wolf close to the surface. “Freya is not yours to toy with, Silas. If you dare lay a claw on her, I’ll hunt you down myself.”

Silas’s silver eyes narrowed, glinting coldly. “What if I told you I’ve never toyed with her?”

Kade blinked, stunned by the sudden gravity in his tone.

“I’ve not played games with Freya Thorne,” Silas said, each word slow and measured. “And hear me well- what lies between her and me is none of your concern.”

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