A Warrior Luna's Awakening (Freya and Caelum) novel Chapter 210

Chapter 210

Chapter 210

Silas’ POV

Her voice cuts into me before I can find the words.

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Freya stands there, her golden eyes-Stormveil-born, blood of the Thornes-fixed not on the documents strewn across the floor, but on me. My face, my faltering breath, the blood draining from my skin.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asks, stepping closer, concern outweighing suspicion. “You look pale. Are you unwell?”

The irony sears me. The evidence of my betrayal lies at her feet, yet she doesn’t look at it. She looks at me. Worrying for me.

My lips tremble as I try to answer. The words I want to speak claw at my throat, but none escape.

She raises her hand, her palm brushing my forehead as though I am the one in need of care. “No fever,” she murmurs, half to herself. “Maybe you’ve been pushing yourself too hard. You don’t rest enough.”

“Perhaps,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. “Perhaps I’m just… tired.”

Her gaze drops, and then the ground betrays me.

“See? You’ve dropped everything,” she says lightly, bending without hesitation to gather the scattered pages.

Panic surges through me. “No-leave it. I’ll handle it.” My voice is too sharp, too urgent, but it’s already too late.

She has already picked up the top photograph. I hear her soft intake of breath, that small startled sound that cleaves me in two.

“This picture…”

My heart stops. Every vein in my body feels like ice, as though my blood has frozen mid-pulse. My fingers twitch, desperate to snatch the photo back. I imagine spinning a lie, weaving some clever excuse-but she despises lies. She told me so once, her voice unyielding, her eyes burning with truth. I had sworn never to deceive her.

And yet… if she knows, if she truly knows what I’ve kept from her, there will be no going back.

Her gaze sharpens, and then she says it-words I dreaded, words that twist the knife. “Why do you have pictures of my brother?”

Eric Thorne. The ghost that haunts me every night.

I choke on silence. My tongue lies heavy, useless in my mouth.

Her hands flip through the rest of the photos, and there he is again and again-Eric’s face in different years, different shadows. His scarred shoulder, his sharp jaw, his eyes that resemble hers. Among the files are reports, dossiers, proof I have tracked him far longer than I have admitted.

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Chapter 210

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“Is it… is this because you’ve been helping me search for him?” she asks suddenly, her voice softening. Her eyes glimmer as she clutches the papers tighter. “Silas… thank you.”

Her gratitude strikes me harder than any blade. If only she knew the truth. Yes, I searched for him. Yes, I gathered everything. But it was not merely to help her. My motives were darker, heavier, soaked in blood.

“Could you… make me a copy of these?” she asks, almost timidly, as if afraid of overstepping. “Some of these photos-I’ve never even seen before.”

And then her hand slides into mine. Her fingers lace with mine, warm, alive.

“Your hand is freezing!” she exclaims softly, clasping both her hands around mine. “How can it be so cold? It’s autumn, not winter, and the room’s warm enough.”

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Chapter 210

I can’t meet her eyes.

“Are you cold?” she asks again.

“A little,” I whisper.

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She bends her head, rubbing my hands with her palms, breathing warm air over my skin. “Here. I’ll warm them for you.”

The sensation shatters me. My body stiffens, but slowly, under her touch, warmth seeps back into my hands. Into my veins. Into the parts of me I thought had gone numb forever.

And yet, beneath the heat, I tremble. Because I know this warmth is a lie. One day, when she learns the truth, her hands will never hold mine again.

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