A Warrior Luna's Awakening (Freya and Caelum) novel Chapter 44

Chapter 44

Freya’s POV

+8 Pearls

“You’re moving out?” Caelum’s voice cracked slightly, disbelief and something sharper–territorial anger–hiding beneath the

calm.

“Yes. Do you really think after everything that happened, I’d continue living here?” I said, my voice even, controlled. “Besides, it won’t be long before the divorce is finalized. I’m just moving out a few days early.”

He froze, eyes narrowing. “A few days? You mean that ridiculous contract with my mother? That signature… she tricked me into signing it without my knowledge. I never never wanted to divorce you!”

I didn’t flinch. “Whether you knew or not doesn’t matter. What matters is that I want a divorce. I’m done, Caelum.”

His gaze darkened, jealousy flaring for a brief, human instant. “Is this because of Silas? Because you found someone better than me?

I couldn’t help the bitter laugh that escaped me. “Caelum, when I married you, you were penniless. Every cent for your business, your start–up, came from me. If I were chasing status, I wouldn’t have chosen you.”

The color drained from his face. I could see him remembering those early days, a young wolf struggling for territory, underestimated by everyone. And yet, I had given him respect, belief, a tether to cling to. His proposal had been less about love than grasping at that lifeline I offered.

“Then if it’s not Silas, is it… the one hundred million your mother promised you?” His gaze drilled into me, sharp, demanding.

I met it evenly. “I’m exhausted. Three years of this marriage drained me–every ounce of patience, every shred of my feelings for you. That’s why I’m leaving, that’s why I want a divorce.”

I said it calm, measured, almost cold. Even my eyes, when they met his, betrayed nothing.

But I could feel it–the Alpha wolf inside him stirring, panic, betrayal, and an aching possessiveness flooding his chest, coiling down his limbs. His hands glistened with cold sweat.

“You.. you have no feelings for me?” His voice trembled, though he tried to mask it.

“Yes. Nothing left,” I said plainly.

The flash of rage and disbelief on his face was instantaneous, raw.

“All because of my mother and sister? Sure, they plotted against you–but what about you? You plotted too, didn’t you?” He was shouting now, claws of frustration raking the air. “You recorded everything with the cameras, played it in the banquet hall… you could have warned me earlier, avoided all this!”

“I did call,” I said, voice cutting through the room.

“What?” His eyes widened.

“At first. When your mother and Giselle were planning their… vile scheme, I called you. If you had answered, none of this would have happened. Things could have ended the way you wanted. But you didn’t.”

He froze, realization and guilt hammering against his chest. He remembered the call, the banquet hall, the live feed flashing on the screens… and he had ignored it, letting his pride, his fear of me making a scene, and Aurora’s presence override instinct.

called. You didn’t answer because, deep down, you never truly cared about me. My calls meant nothing to you. And your family? They treated me with the same disdain,” I said, each word precise, sharp.

“Freya… I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He stumbled over apologies, frantic, the wolf within him pacing at the edges of his control.

But I stayed calm. My expression serene. “Even without yesterday… I would still have no feelings for you. Let’s end this cleanly, Caelum.”

My tone was flat, matter–of–fact, as though discussing the weather rather than the collapse of a three–year union.

The more composed I remained, the more his wolf clawed at his chest, howling in frustration. How could I be so calm, so detached, after all we had shared? Three years of marriage, and I treated it like it meant nothing.

“So… no amicable ending? Or is this divorce about that one hundred million?” His gaze sharpened, conflicted between Alpha instinct and human desire.

I let a dry, ironic smile cross my lips. “Fine. Keep your money. We’re divorcing.”

The shock in his eyes was palpable. He’d expected hesitation, bargaining–maybe even some softness. But I gave him none.

I wanted the divorce. No more negotiations, no more compromises, no more lingering in a cage I’d outgrown. And the fact that he realized it, that his Alpha pride couldn’t dominate my resolve, only made him more humiliated.

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