A Warrior Luna's Awakening (Freya and Caelum) novel Chapter 237

Chapter 237

Chapter 237

Third Person’s POV

The theater went black.

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For a heartbeat, the Grand Hall of the Capital was swallowed in shadow, and every wolf inside felt the sudden prickle of unease. Murmurs rose, sharp and restless, and the dancers on stage froze mid–step, their powerful forms caught in darkness.

“What’s happening? Why did the lights go out?” someone barked from the crowd. Panic laced the air, pheromones spiking in a frenzy of alarm.

The backup generators hummed to life, and pale light spilled across the vast interior. A staffer’s voice carried through the amplifiers, shaky but clear:

“We apologize. There’s been a fault in the equipment tonight, and unfortunately the performance cannot continue.”

The uproar was immediate.

“What do you mean, canceled? We came here just for this!”

“Unbelievable! Don’t you check your systems before a show?”

The complaints mounted, voices layering like a rising pack howl, until the announcer spoke again–words sharp enough to cut straight through the noise.

“As compensation, every ticket will be reimbursed at triple its value. Moreover, anyone holding tonight’s ticket may return for the show at the Grand Theater of the Capital, free of charge, with upgraded seating.”

The uproar ebbed at once. Surprise flickered, followed swiftly by delight. Three times the

money,

and another show for free? The wolves of the Capital loved a bargain as much as blood. The mood shifted, grumbles replaced by chatter and grins.

Under the direction of the staff, the audience filed out in neat, orderly lines, though the lingering musk of disappointment still clung to the air.

Lana groaned as she trailed beside Freya, her voice dripping with exasperation. “Of all nights, the one time we come, and the tech decides to collapse. Do you know how close I was to being picked as the lucky one on stage, Freya? I could have had one of those gods of muscle dripping water right in front of me.”

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Chapter 237

Freya chuckled softly. “Next time, Lana.”

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“Next time,” Lana sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Though fate clearly doesn’t like me very much tonight.”

They reached the broad archway of the theater’s exit, the cool night air of the Capital rolling in, carrying the scents of stone, steel, and wolf musk. The hour was barely past nine–early, by the rhythms of the city.

“Silas probably hasn’t arrived yet, right?” Lana asked, pulling her jacket tighter. “Why don’t you call him? If he’s not here, I’ll run you home.”

Freya opened her mouth to agree, but her gaze snagged on the sleek line of a Maybach parked not far from the entrance. The doors opened, and a tall, commanding figure stepped into view, his stride purposeful, his aura unmistakable.

Her heart stuttered. He had arrived early.

Silas.

The Alpha of the Ironclad Coalition carried himself with that same chill that kept lesser wolves at bay. His broad shoulders cut a severe silhouette against the glow of the streetlamps, his expression unreadable, his storm–grey eyes fixed on her with an intensity that made her pulse quicken.

But Freya’s shock deepened when another car door slammed shut behind the Maybach. A second figure emerged from the vehicle parked in its shadow.

Victor.

Whispers flitted through the crowd. Some females all but trembled, wishing for the courage to approach, to beg for a name, a contact. But Silas’s presence was a wall of iron–one glance, and no one dared trespass.

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Silas turned his eyes to Freya, ignoring the exchange entirely. His voice was low, imperious. “Let’s go.”

Freya hesitated, torn, looking at Lana. “Are you sure…?”

Her friend nodded briskly. “Go. I actually have something to say to Victor. You being here only makes it awkward.”

Freya caught her arm, whispering, “Truly? You’ll be alright?”

Lana smirked faintly, though her eyes glittered with a challenge that wasn’t aimed at Freya. “Victor isn’t some beast of the Void. He won’t devour me. Trust me, I want this conversation.”

With lingering unease, Freya allowed Silas to guide her away. His hand brushed hers, firm, anchoring, and the bond that simmered unspoken between them pulsed hot through her

veins.

As they disappeared into the night, Lana pivoted to face Victor fully. Her smile curved sharper

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Chapter 237

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now, tinged with bitterness. “Tell me, Victor… am I imagining things, or did you come here tonight for me?”

Victor’s silence was damning. His eyes darkened, his lips tightening as he recalled the earlier scene–the business gathering, Silas stepping aside to call Freya, and Lana’s voice carrying far, too far. Her laughter, her teasing words about muscled dancers, about near contact, about desire.

Every syllable had hit him like a claw to the chest.

This woman. Always so careless. Always chasing spectacle. Did she truly hunger for any wolf with a body and a grin?

Jealousy burned him raw, though he wore his composure like armor. But his silence betrayed what he would not admit.