A Warrior Luna's Awakening (Freya and Caelum) novel Chapter 395

**Chapter 395**

**Freya’s POV**

Vaughn’s question sliced through the atmosphere like a dagger, sharp and unexpected, leaving a palpable tension in its wake.

Before I could gather my thoughts to respond, Silas’s voice rang out, slicing through the silence of the room with a chilling finality.

“Enough, Vaughn. She has nothing to do with me anymore. Don’t drag her into this. The medicine you gave me wasn’t effective. Change it.”

His tone was laden with an Ironclad Alpha authority—soft yet undeniably commanding, the kind that compelled lesser wolves to avert their gaze without needing a word of instruction.

Vaughn stared at him, disbelief etched across his features. “Silas, you’ve already switched through half the damn pharmacy.”

He wasn’t exaggerating. I had witnessed the array of pill bottles—too many to count—stacked haphazardly like stones in a forgotten shrine. I recalled the tremor in Silas’s hands, the subtle shake that betrayed his facade when he thought I wasn’t paying attention, a clear sign of a wolf pushed to the brink of his endurance.

His insomnia was not merely a struggle against sleeplessness; it was a heavy burden, a curse borne from his bloodline. A curse that gnawed at Alphas from within, consuming them bit by bit.

“Change it,” Silas repeated, his voice clipped, yet the wolf beneath it growled with an underlying ferocity.

Vaughn sighed, the fight leaving him. “Fine. I’ll change it.”

I could no longer remain silent, the words spilling from my lips before I could think better of it. “That’s it? You’re not going to re-examine him? He’s been on these medications for a while now.”

Vaughn glanced at me, a look of knowing pity crossing his features, as if he could see right through my façade.

“All scans and evaluations were done. Silas has a natural resistance to sedatives. Medication interacts differently with him,” he explained, his tone matter-of-fact.

I couldn’t shake the memories of D-Territory—the dim, flickering lamplight casting shadows across the room. Silas perched on the edge of the bed, his back tense as he swallowed pills one after another, each one a desperate hope that perhaps this time it would work—and maybe deep down, he didn’t believe it would.

“Then is there anything else besides medication?” I pressed, my heart racing with urgency.

Vaughn’s gaze flicked between Silas and me, a silent exchange that spoke volumes.

And in that moment, I understood the unspoken truth behind his eyes.

I was the “treatment” he dared not voice.

Silas reached for my wrist—not with aggression, but with a controlled urgency that sent a jolt through my wolf, igniting a fire within me.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice low and firm. “Don’t pity me. Don’t care about me. You’ve seen I’m under treatment. So now you can leave.”

His presence shifted—cool and distant, creating an invisible barrier that I could feel deep in my bones. An Alpha reclaiming his territory from someone he had once let in too close.

“I just—” I began, but he cut me off, his voice dripping with a taunting edge, the kind that masked deeper wounds.

“Just what? Are you about to say you still love me? That you regret ending things? That you want to come back?”

My breath hitched in my throat.

I loathed how effortlessly he could reach into the most vulnerable corners of my heart, exposing the rawness within.

My silence was a confession in itself.

His laugh was soft, devoid of humor. “Then listen carefully, Freya. If you don’t want me clinging to you again—stop caring. Stop looking at me like I matter.”

Each word fell heavily between us, as if he were constructing a wall brick by brick, a barrier meant to separate us even as his eyes betrayed the turmoil raging within.

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