A Warrior Luna's Awakening (Freya and Caelum) novel Chapter 117

Chapter 117

Freya’s POV

Finished

I was dragged out of sleep by the sharp trill of my WolfComm. The glowing screen nearly blinded me in the early dawn haze.

I groaned and fumbled for it, only to hear Lana’s voice explode through the receiver.

“Freya, are you kidding me? You’re with Alpha Silas, and you didn’t tell me?”

My eyes cracked open. “What?” My voice rasped, still half–asleep. “Since when am I with Silas?”

“Don’t play dumb!” she shrieked. “Last night, at the banquet–he confessed to you in front of the entire Ashboon delegation It’s all over the feeds. You’re trending!”

That jolted me awake. I sat up, tangled in the hotel sheets, and swiped across my WolfComm to check. Sure enough, the top headline blazed red:

SHOCKING: Alpha of Ironclad Coalition Linked to Divorced Woman of the Stormveil Pack

And beneath it–pictures. Me and Silas, frozen in a thousand camera flashes. One shot caught the exact moment his cold, steel–gray eyes softened as he looked at me. A tenderness there that no one had ever seen before, not from the infamous Ironclad Alpha.

I cursed under my breath. No wonder the comments were feral.

“That’s Whitmor? The coldest Alpha in The Capital? No way he actually cares about her.”

“She’s just a divorced she–wolf, what could he possibly see in her?”

“If he looked at me like that, I’d throw myself into his arms this second.”

“Moon above, those eyes…. one flicker of warmth from a man like him is enough to destroy you.”

I scrolled, heat creeping up my neck. Silas Whitmor, the Ironclad’s stone–hearted Alpha, was being dissected like some forbidden fruit—and I was standing in the middle of the storm.

Lana’s voice bellowed again from the phone, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Well? Are you together or not?”

“No,” I said flatly. “Of course not. Do you think I’m the kind of wolf who leaps into another’s arms the moment a bond is severed?”

Lana scoffed. “You’re not seriously still hung up on Caelum Grafton, are you? That bastard—”

“I’m not,” I cut her off quickly. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to start… dating Silas.”

“You’re insane.” She huffed. “Silas Whitmor just confessed to you in front of half the realm. He’s been voted the most desirable Alpha in The Capital–women literally dream of conquering him. And you’re telling me you didn’t even feel a spark?”

Her words echoed too loudly through the speaker. I cringed and glanced at the walls. Damn it–I’d left it on loudspeaker. The entire room was echoing with her ridiculous claim. Most desirable Alpha to conquer? What kind of ridiculous magazine put that on print?

And yet… my lips tingled faintly, unbidden. As if they remembered the heat of his hand when he’d brushed against me last night. My skin still carried the ghost of his touch.

“No,” I muttered, a little too quickly. “Definitely not.”

But even to myself, it didn’t sound convincing.

When Lana finally let me go, I tossed the WolfComm aside and stumbled into the shower, trying to wash away the lingering warmth I refused to name.

By the time I made it downstairs, Silas was already waiting in the dining room. Of course he was. Impeccably dressed, posture rigid, eyes cool as winter steel. The Alpha of the Ironclad never looked anything less than carved from iron.

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Chapter 117

Finished

1 sat, poured myself a bowl of congee, and tried to ignore the weight of his gaze. But then–his voice cut through the silence.

Tell me,” he said, tone calm but deadly direct, “do I not stir in you… the desire to conquer me?”

I nearly choked. The spoon froze halfway to my lips. The porridge suddenly tasted like sand.

“Very well,” he said smoothly.

I finished my meal faster than usual, eager to escape the heavy atmosphere. As I left, I felt his eyes on me, burning holes into my back until I disappeared through the lobby doors.

Behind me, I could almost hear him speak–low, frustrated, but laced with a longing he’d never admit openly.

How do I get closer to her?

Wren murmured something in reply, but I didn’t catch it.

The Stormveil Pack’s ancestral estate loomed before me by midday. Ken Thorne sat in his armchair, his once–mighty frame diminished with age, though his spirit still clung stubbornly to life.

“Grandfather,” I said softly, kneeling beside him. “How are you feeling?”

He smiled faintly, eyes glinting. “Don’t you worry about me, child. The bones of an old wolf don’t break so easily. But I hear whispers you’ve no intention of joining the Thorne enterprises?”

His voice carried both curiosity and disappointment, and my heart clenched. The weight of family, of legacy, pressed against

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697 AM P P

Chapter 117

me

Finished

I bowed my head. The truth lay heavy on my tongue, but I wasn’t sure I could give him the answer he wanted to hear.

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