A Warrior Luna's Awakening (Freya and Caelum) novel Chapter 111

Chapter 111

Freya’s POV

Finished

I never believed for a second that Aurora–slender, pampered daughter of Bluemoon’s Beta–could have hauled Caelum Grafton from the jaws of the Blackwater.

The thought alone was absurd. The river that night had raged like a beast unleashed. Even I, trained under Iron Fang Recon, nearly drowned dragging him from its grip. My lungs had burned, my muscles screamed, and my wolf had clawed through me with fury and desperation to keep him afloat. Aurora? She wouldn’t have lasted a heartbeat.

But Caelum stiffened when I said it aloud, and Aurora’s face paled before darkening with offense.

Jocelyn Thorne pounced like a viper on blood. “What’s that supposed to mean, Freya? That only you are worthy of saving him? That no one else has the right?” Her voice rose, deliberately pitched to carry across the ballroom. “Courage saves lives, not just strength. Don’t think we don’t see what this is–you want him back, and so you’re spitting poison on Aurora!”

The air shifted; wolves‘ ears turned, eyes flicked toward us. Jocelyn had achieved what she wanted: attention. Humiliation, served hot and loud, for me alone,

I could feel the weight of dozens of gazes. All the packs who mattered in Ashbourne had their alphas and dignitaries gathered here tonight. Officials from the Capital, industrial barons, commanders from Halston Combat Academy. And Jocelyn was feeding them a story meant to brand me as desperate, petty, pathetic.

Aurora’s voice followed swiftly, smooth but sharp. “Freya, if you regret leaving Caelum during the Lunar Severance Phase, you should say it openly. But to use such cheap tricks… it demeans you.”

“Cheap tricks?” My lips curled, my wolf’s snarl bleeding through my tone. “Tell me, Aurora–between us, who is the real trickster here?”

Her nostrils flared, but she pressed forward, emboldened by Jocelyn’s support. “If you saved him, Freya, then why weren’t you there afterward? Why did no one see you at the riverbank, or the ambulance, or the clinic? Where were you?”

I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted copper. Because I had been called away. Because duty doesn’t wait. The Iron Fang Recon Unit had deployed me within the hour–another mission, another threat that needed blood and steel.

But before I left, I had dragged him out of the water with every ounce of strength I had left. I had called WolfComm, begged for the medics to hurry, and pressed a stranger–a passerby–to stay by his side until help arrived. That stranger was faceless now, gone to the wind. The medics‘ records from that night, long erased. I had no proof left to offer.

Not that proof mattered anymore.

I exhaled slowly, keeping my voice flat. “Aurora, a stolen bond will never be yours. You can wrap it in silk, parade it in front of every Alpha here tonight, but it won’t make it true. Pray that when Caelum faces death again, you’re not the one standing beside him. Because then, the lie will end.”

Aurora’s face twisted, fury cracking the mask of her composure. “So you just walk away?” she snapped. “You smear me, then think you can leave without a word of apology?”

“Apology?” I let out a bitter laugh. “And what exactly should I apologize for?”

“For calling me a liar,” she spat. Her voice rang louder now, each syllable meant to bind Caelum tighter to her side. “For trying to strip me of what’s mine.”

My wolf surged, hungry for blood. I stepped closer, my voice low but lethal. “Aurora, are you asking to be thrown beneath my boots again?”

Her face blazed crimson. The memory still burned in her–the airport, the crowd, the moment I had ground her pride into dust beneath my heel. She would never forgive it, never forget.

“Enough!” Caelum’s voice cut across us, hard and commanding. He stepped forward, Alpha aura pulsing like a whip. “Freya, you slander her, and you owe her an apology.”

I didn’t even look at him. “And who are you to demand such a thing from me?”

6.05 AM

1. me.

“Enough,” said Silas Whitmor.

He strode forward, the Ironclad Alpha himself, his presence suffocating, his aura a storm that swallowed the hall. His gaze cut straight through Aurora and Caelum, reducing them to silence.

“So what if she struck you?” Silas’s tone was calm, cold. “Which crime weighs heavier, Caelum? A slap–or spitting on the memory of Legion dead and Stormveil bloodline?”

Aurora’s face drained of color. Even Caelum flinched.

Silas smiled faintly, without warmth. “And as for you, Aurora… I already struck you twice tonight, did I not? Shall I escort you to the enforcers myself? Perhaps they’d like to know how Bluemoon’s shining pilot finds herself at odds with Ironclad’s Alpha.”

The hall stilled, heavy with unspoken truth. No one, not even Silverfang, dared challenge Silas Whitmor openly. To call the enforcers down upon him would be to declare war, and there were few in Ashbourne reckless enough to try.

Caelum’s mouth opened, then closed. His eyes darted between me, Aurora, and Silas. “This… must be a misunderstanding,” he said finally, voice strained. “Let’s not make it bigger than it is.”

But Jocelyn wasn’t done. Her lips curled, and I could feel her triumph burning hotter than wildfire. She had drawn blood tonight, and she wouldn’t let the wound close. She would make sure every Alpha, every dignitary here, walked away believing I was desperate, dishonest, dangerous.

The war in this hall had only just begun.

A Warrior Luna’s Awakening