A Warrior Luna's Awakening (Freya and Caelum) novel Chapter 365

Chapter 365

Third Person’s POV

inished

“You still work in places like that?” Lana asked softly, her tone somewhere between disbelief

and sorrow.

“For coin,” he replied, the ghost of a smile cutting across his face. “After I left my family, no pack would take me. My mother’s ill. And this… this kind of work pays fast.”

There was no shame in his words–only a hard, brittle irony. His eyes, once bright with conviction, were dulled now, steeped in fatigue and quiet defiance. The boy who’d once stood up to lies and cruelty was gone, replaced by a man trying to survive in a world that didn’t care.

“I suppose I should be grateful,” Duke said, his mouth twisting. “Grateful I’ve still got the looks for it. Otherwise, I wouldn’t even be worth the sin.”

Before she could reply, the innkeeper arrived with two steaming bowls of venison stew. The smell was earthy and rich, laced with thyme and mead. Duke bent his head, eating quickly, grateful for something to fill the silence.

Lana watched him. Her chest ached–not from pity, but from remembrance. “If it’s coin you need,” she said quietly, “I can lend you some. No interest, no rush. But find something better, Duke. You don’t belong in shadows.”

He froze, spoon halfway to his mouth. The offer hit him harder than he expected. “I can’t take your-”

“You can,” she cut in, firm but kind. “You helped me when no one else would. When everyone else chose silence.”

The memory flooded between them like a tide. Years ago, she’d been a young wolf with no allies. Her father dead, her mother gone to another pack, and her stepbrother–her predator- protected by bloodlines and lies. The night he tried to force her, she fought, bled, escaped–but her stepmother had twisted every word, every wound. Only one witness had come forward. Only Duke.

He’d stood in the High Court, trembling yet defiant, rejecting the gold bribes offered to silence him. His testimony had sealed the predator’s fate–and spared Lana from ruin.

“If you hadn’t done that,” she said, voice trembling just slightly, “I would have lost everything. My freedom. My sanity. Maybe my life.”

He didn’t meet her eyes. “You don’t owe me anything, Lana.”

“I do,” she insisted. “And I intend to repay it. Send me your scroll–your work record. ”

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Chapter 365

This time, he didn’t refuse. “Thank you,” he murmured. Then, hesitating, “Lana… you’ve changed.”

She smiled faintly. “We all have.”

34

Finished

When the meal was done, she walked him to his quarters–a narrow lodging near the edge of the trade district, where the scent of smoke and sea salt mingled in the night air. Then she turned back toward her own keep, the wind carrying faint echoes of the pack’s distant howls. The moon was high when she reached her gate–and froze.

Victor was waiting there.

He leaned against her doorframe, a dark figure haloed in silver light. A half–burned cigarette smoldered between his fingers, its ember casting brief glints across his sharp, unreadable face. The Alpha looked every inch the storm he was rumored to be.

“You smoke now?” she asked, taken aback.

His voice was low, roughened by something that wasn’t just the smoke. “Apparently, I do.”

C

The scent of ash and anger rolled off him in waves. He’d been waiting a while–long enough for the calm to burn out of him. His golden eyes met hers, sharp and cold.

“Tell me, Lana,” he said, each word deliberate. “Was I not enough? Did you have to find your satisfaction elsewhere?”

Her pulse spiked. She darted forward, covering his mouth with her hand before he could say more. The corridor walls had ears; the neighboring dens weren’t far.

“Don’t,” she hissed. “Don’t say things like that out here.”

He gripped her wrist, prying her hand away with slow, measured strength. “Out here? Then inside, perhaps?” His voice dropped lower, darker. “I heard you left the Moon’s Den with a younger wolf. The kind that works for coin. Tell me, Lana–was he better at pleasing you?”

Her eyes flashed. “Duke is my friend. Nothing more.”

“Friend?” His tone cut like a blade. “You have many of those, don’t you? Or is that what you them when you tire of saying lover?”

Anger rose in her chest, fierce and unbidden. She unlocked the door, pushing it open with more force than grace. “Enough,” she snapped. “Get inside before someone hears you.”

call

He followed, silent and taut as a bowstring. The door shut behind them, sealing the night away. The air between them thickened, crackling with the unspoken–the bond that had once been stronger than blood, now strained to the edge of breaking.

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Finished

“What satisfaction are you even talking about?” she said, trying for calm. “There’s nothing between Duke and me.”

“Then what is he to you?” Victor asked, stepping closer, voice edged with a growl. “Another stray for you to fix? Another wounded wolf you can feel noble about saving?”

“Maybe he’s someone who deserves a chance,” she shot back. “Not everyone has the luxury of being born Alpha.”

His hand moved before she could react, catching her chin, forcing her gaze up to his. The golden ring around his pupils flared–a telltale spark of dominance. “You think I don’t see through you?” he murmured. “You help him because you can’t help yourself. Because guilt makes you feel righteous.”

Her lips parted in protest–but he didn’t give her the chance.

Victor’s mouth crashed against hers, fierce and consuming. His grip tightened, pulling her against him as if he could erase the distance that had grown between them. She gasped against his lips, her protest breaking into breath and heat.

C

“Stop-” she managed between kisses, though her pulse betrayed her.

But he didn’t stop. The Alpha in him had surfaced fully, wild and wounded. His kiss deepened -frustration, longing, and something dangerously close to love tangled into one primal motion.

She struggled, half–heartedly at first, then harder, pushing at his chest until he finally drew back, both of them breathing hard. His eyes burned with something unreadable.

“You can lie to yourself, Lana,” he said hoarsely. “But not to me. I can smell the truth on you.”

Her hand trembled, caught between striking him and reaching for him. “And what truth is that?”

“That you still care,” he said simply.