A Warrior Luna's Awakening (Freya and Caelum) novel Chapter 167

Chapter 167

Silas‘ POV

Finished

Freya’s face flushed at my words, though she.tried to hide it. The apple knife spun lightly in my fingers as I handed the peeled fruit to her. She accepted it with her uninjured hand, trying to keep her composure. I had seen warriors stare down death with steadier eyes, yet somehow the small crack in her armor made my chest tighten.

Her voice broke the silence. “How’s Wren?”

“He’ll live,” I said, tone clipped, forcing myself to steady the tremor in my wolf. “He needs time to heal, but nothing permanent.”

Relief softened her shoulders, and for a heartbeat I wished I could freeze her like that–unguarded, safe.

But the moment my gaze drifted back to the stark white bandage wrapped around her arm, guilt surged hot through my veins. My claws threatened to unsheathe beneath my skin.

“Freya…” My voice dropped low. “Don’t ever throw yourself in front of me like that again.”

She paused mid–bite, confusion flickering across her face. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I won’t allow it. I can’t watch you bleed for me again.”

Her brows drew together, defiance flashing in her wolf–gold eyes. “But I’m your protector. It’s my duty. And it’s just a small wound. I’ll heal.”

The word small tore something raw inside me. My wolf lunged against my ribs, growling at her reckless dismissal. “I don’t care if it’s small or mortal, I won’t allow it. From this moment, you’re released from the duty of guarding me. I’ll make it official with the Iron Fang Recon Unit myself.”

Her jaw parted in shock, words caught in her throat. She didn’t expect my tone to be that final.

“What about your safety?” she challenged.

“I’ll handle it,” I answered, voice iron–hard. My wolf surged, a tide of violence and certainty. “And soon there will be no threats left to guard against.”

The silence that followed pressed heavy between us. She ate the apple quietly, and soon the medicine pulled her into slumber. Her breathing evened, her lashes soft against her cheeks.

I sat beside her a long while, just watching. The way her chest rose and fell, the way her hair spilled across the pillow like a dark river. I reached out, brushing a stray lock from her face, my touch feather–light. In that stillness, my wolf went silent,

content.

But the moment I rose the moment I stepped into the corridor beyond her door, the softness shattered.

Two rows of my guards straightened immediately. The scent of iron discipline filled the hall.

“You’ll guard Freya Thorne with your lives,” I said, my voice carrying the weight of Alpha command. “If anything happens to her, if she draws even a single drop of blood without me knowing… you know the price.”

“Yes, Alpha!” they chorused, the words vibrating in the sterile hospital air

I turned toward the elevator, each step echoing with purpose. By the time the doors closed, the tenderness in my chest was gone, replaced by a searing rage. My wolf prowled inside me, demanding retribution. Tonight, the Whitmore bloodlines that had conspired with Rogues would learn what it meant to provoke me.

“Enough groveling,” I snapped, turning my gaze to the far corner where shadows clung too heavily. “Come out. I know you’re there.”

A deep, mocking laugh rolled out before the figure emerged. Cassian Whitmor–my father.

The sight of him sent bile rising in my throat.

“I thought you’d drag this game out longer,” he said, his smile sharp as a blade.

“You want me dead that badly, Father?” My voice was flat, though my wolf bristled, hackles raised.

Cassian shrugged with feigned ease. “Dead? Not necessarily. But untested, unproven? That, I could not allow. An Alpha of the Whitmores must earn the seat. Consider this a trial by fire.”

The sneer on my lips came without thought. “A trial that involved allying with Rogues? Sending them after your own son?” “You’re still breathing, aren’t you?” His eyes gleamed. “That means you passed.”

“Do you fear I’ll hand you to the Coalition Tribunal?” I asked, voice low, deadly. “Ironclad and the military both keep records. If 1 fall, every project tied to Whitmore blood halts. You think they wouldn’t come for you?”

Cassian chuckled, arrogant. “And yet, you have no evidence. I was careful. You can’t touch me, not in any court.”

I clenched my fists until claws threatened to break skin. He was right. He had covered his tracks.

Then his gaze shifted, sly. “You didn’t care before. But now… now you’re desperate to end this farce. Because of her, isn’t it? Freya Thorne. That little warrior who bled for you. She changed you.”

The growl ripped from my chest before I could stop it, my wolf surging forward, a snarl curling my lips. The guards stiffened, the air thick with killing intent.

“Yes,” I thought savagely. Because of her.