A Warrior Luna's Awakening (Freya and Caelum) novel Chapter 391

**Chapter 391**

**Silas’s POV**

The passage of time felt agonizingly slow. Each tick of the clock echoed in the glass-and-steel confines of this towering edifice, as if the world outside was caught in a thick, syrupy haze. I stood transfixed, gazing through the expansive windows that reached toward the heavens, watching the sun ascend in its daily journey. Its rays sliced through the office, casting a mosaic of warmth and shadow across the polished floor, illuminating the stark contrast between light and dark, much like the tumult within me.

Wren entered the room with a measured cadence, his footsteps deliberate and cautious. “My apologies, Alpha Silas,” he began, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “Freya remains here. She refuses to leave, despite my attempts to persuade her. You know how stubborn she can be.”

I kept my focus on the distant skyline, my expression cold and inscrutable. “Let her wait,” I murmured, almost as if speaking to myself. My wolf stirred within me, restless and alert, its claws scraping against the barriers of instinct and memory, demanding attention.

Wren hesitated, his brow furrowed with concern. “It’s nearly noon, Alpha. If she continues to wait, she might not eat. Her shoulder wound—she hasn’t fully healed from that gunshot. If she stays there much longer…” His voice trailed off, his eyes darting toward me, searching for any sign of my thoughts.

A slow exhale escaped my lips, a release of the tension that had begun to creep in. Freya had a peculiar effect on me, one that no one else could replicate. Only she had the power to awaken both the beast within me and the man I had worked so hard to keep subdued.

“Bring her up,” I instructed, my voice steady, though I could feel the wolf beneath my skin thrumming with anticipation.

Wren’s relief was palpable as he nodded. “Of course. I will fetch her right away.”

He departed and returned mere moments later, ushering her into the tower. I felt her presence before she even crossed the threshold—the subtle shift in the air, the tension in her muscles, and the unmistakable scent of determination mixed with the faint metallic tang of her injury. I had honed my ability to read wolves over the years, and Freya’s aura was a tempest, barely contained by the facade of civility she wore.

As she stepped into the office, her gaze was unwavering, fierce. Sunlight danced upon her hair and frame, illuminating the struggle between her wolf instincts and her human composure. I noticed the slight tremor in her shoulder; her wound had reopened, and the scent of her blood was unmistakable. She had pushed herself too far.

“Freya,” I said, my voice low and deliberate. “What brings you here? What could possibly compel you to risk your safety by confronting me in person?”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, a moment of hesitation passing before she spoke. Her voice was firm and precise, yet I could detect the tremor beneath her words—an echo of the wolf’s urgency within. “Alpha Witmore, I need you to rescind your decision regarding Jenny’s expulsion from the Williams Family.”

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