A Warrior Luna's Awakening (Freya and Caelum) novel Chapter 60

Chapter 60

Freya’s POV

“Caelum isn’t worthy of you, Freya! He wouldn’t even come to bring your parents‘ ashes back with you–how could he ever be your husband?” Aldred’s voice thundered, fury vibrating through the room.

Eleanor scoffed, venom dripping from every word. “Bah! Ashes, such unlucky things–do you expect my son to go fetch them? Dream on!” She spat the words as if they were poison. “That day Freya came with the urn, wanting to leave it at our home for a few days… I slapped her and made her drop it. If she’d dared to leave it here. I would have smashed it myself. Trying to curse my Grafton family with bad luck? How malicious…”

Aldred’s hands clenched, his body trembling with rage. He finally understood just what kind of suffering I had endured.

Kade’s and Lana’s faces were tight with anger, Lana’s eyes wet with unshed tears. She was finally seeing the hidden layers behind my divorce–the depths of injustice I had been forced to endure.

And Caelum… how could he treat me this way?

Eleanor’s malicious pride rose with each word until a cold, commanding voice cut through the room. “Strike!”

The crack of a powerful slap echoed. Eleanor’s mouth froze mid–sentence, her words strangled in her throat. Everyone in the room went silent, watching. The hand belonged to one of Silas Whitmor’s men–but the one who had given the command was none other than Silas Whitmor himself.

Eleanor staggered, stunned, before reality sank in. She screeched, “Fine, Freya! You collude with outsiders against me? Your parents gave birth to a daughter like you, that’s why they died early!”

“Continue!” Silas Whitmor’s voice, low and cold, issued the single word, and his men resumed, slapping Eleanor again and again. Her face quickly swollen, reddened, the room reverberating with the relentless rhythm of punishment.

No one dared intervene–this was Silas Whitmor, Alpha of the Ironclad Coalition, a predator whose influence blanketed half of The Capital.

Caelum tried to step forward, to protect Eleanor–but Silas‘ men blocked him. He couldn’t even shout without risk, and all his rage turned on me. “Freya, you won’t make them stop? This is what you want?!”

I pressed my lips together, saying nothing.

If Eleanor had been merely insulting me, I could have ignored it. But my parents… my parents‘ honor had been dragged through the mud. My father, Arthur Thorne, and my mother, Myra… they were warriors, sacrifices for their country. No one insulted their memory and walked away.

The cold, echoing slaps continued, resonating through the tense air like wolf claws against the pack’s den.

“If something happens to my mother because of this, Freya, can you take responsibility?” Caelum shouted.

“I will take responsibility!” Silas Whitmor said, his voice as unflinching as steel. “Any injuries, any medical bills, any damages -Whitmore will pay!”

The room fell silent again.

Eleanor’s eyes widened in fear, and she turned to her son for protection. “Freya, must you go this far? You just want money, right? Fine. I’ll give you money–just stop them!”

The slaps ceased temporarily. Silas‘ gaze shifted to me, waiting. If I spoke, if I demanded my rights, he would allow his men to continue,

met Caelum’s eyes, voice calmrand precise, my words cutting like a wolf’s teeth. “I want money, yes. But this 1.53 million isn’t yours to give–it’s yours to return.

When you started your venture, you didn’t have the funds. That 1.53 million… it was the money I lent you, Caelum, to start SilverTech Forgeworks.

“That was the death compensation from my parents, Giselle,” I said, my voice cold, unwavering. My words landed like a blow, silent but heavy, and the room fell into a stunned silence.

Caelum’s pupils contracted sharply. He stared at me, disbelief etched on every line of his face.

That first capital… it was death compensation?

Impossible. And yet, if it hadn’t been that, where else could I have obtained such funds?

He remembered…. the grief I had carried after my parents‘ deaths. The quiet desperation I hid behind. And the moment he had been trapped by financial fear, trembling at his dreams, I had handed him that money.

“Take this, go realize your ambition,” I had told him then.

“Where did you get so much money?? he had asked, stunned.

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