A Warrior Luna's Awakening (Freya and Caelum) novel Chapter 67

Chapter 67

Freya’s POV

The moment I turned my head, a flash of deep green uniforms hit my eyes.

My heart clenched.

Aldred had come.

+8 Pearls

I froze, staring at the familiar figure standing not far away. Behind him followed the old pack medic, the one who had once served beside my parents, and with them came others–wolves who had been my father Arthur Thorne’s and my mother Myra Brown’s comrades–in–arms. Two full rows of warriors marched in their wake, their formation sharp, every step echoing the discipline of the Iron Fang Recon Unit.

The air shifted instantly. The terminal went silent, every mortal and wolf alike struck still by the sight of so many soldiers in ceremonial greens.

My throat burned. My eyes stung hot.

I hadn’t shed a single tear when Aurora’s cronies shoved me, or even when the crack of the shock baton rattled against my ribs. I had clenched my jaw, held my wolf’s rage inside a cage.

But now, seeing Aidred here–seeing the pack’s warriors come to escort my parents home for their final run beneath the moon–I nearly broke.

This… this was for them.

The airport guards, who had moments ago dared to brandish batons against me, lowered their weapons at once. Their faces blanched. They no longer dared move.

My gaze swept the rows of soldiers, and for a breath, I felt the ghost of my own Iron Fang days–the oath I once swore, the blood I once spilled for the pack and nation. I had vowed never to dishonor that service. And even though fury thundered inside me, I forced myself to unclench my boot from Aurora’s ribs.

I could have crushed her further. Broken bones, torn muscle–her howl of pain would have satisfied some small part of me. But that kind of vengeance would only drag me into dishonor. Wolves like her weren’t worth the stain.

Aurora stumbled up to her feet, eyes filled with venom. “Freya Thorne, I’ll see you punished for this!”

Before I could answer, Lana stepped forward like a sudden flame. “No–you don’t get to twist this. If not for you, Freya wouldn’t have been cornered like prey by these guards, struck with a shock–baton like some criminal!”

“Shock–baton?” Aldred’s voice rumbled like a thunderclap. His gaze dropped to the weapons in the guards‘ hands. His aura rolled over the hall like a stormfront. “You dared? You wolves dared strike her with those? She is the daughter of martyrs! Her parents gave their lives for this nation. She herself bled for the pack as part of the Iron Fang Recon Unit! And in broad daylight, here in the open, you dare?”

The sound of his words split the air, snapping down like lightning. The staff and guards flinched, eyes darting, suddenly unsure of their footing.

Martyr’s daughter.

Whispers slithered through the crowd. Were the ashes in my arms truly of fallen wolves who had given everything? And was I -me, the woman they had sneered at–not only the daughter of the dead, but a soldier who had once faced death herself in the name of the pack?

The guards who had laid hands on me shifted uneasily, glancing at one another, panic painting their expressions.

Aurora’s face twisted. Disbelief flashed there. She couldn’t swallow it, That I was truly of that bloodline? That Arthur and Myra had indeed fallen for the nation? Rather than an ordinary logistics Omega?

Her eyes cut toward Caelum Gration.

1251 PM PP

Chapter 67

The Yunhang leaders exchanged uneasy glances. Finally, the head of Public Relations stepped forward, pale and sweating. “Someone explain. What happened here?”

All eyes shifted.

To Aurora.

She swallowed, then forced her voice out. “I… I suspected the urn. I thought it was unsafe. She refused to let me inspect it, so I called security. It was only to ensure flight safety-”

A snarl rolled from Aldred’s chest. “Pathetic excuse.”

The soldiers behind him, wolves all, bared their teeth. Their fury was palpable,

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Aurora floundered, voice rising. “If the urn had held something dangerous–explosives, toxins—then the entire flight could have been at risk! I was thinking of the passengers!”

My wolf snapped inside me. My voice came cold as ice. “I had filed the report. The ashes were cleared. All you had to do was check. But you didn’t check. You chose instead to accuse, to humiliate, and to seize. That was your choice.”

Aurora’s face went white, then red.

“And so what you claim is this,” Aldred said, voice like iron, eyes cutting through her. “That if a pilot doubts–then even the ashes of martyrs can be desecrated, dragged into suspicion, handled like contraband. Is that it?”

His growl reverberated through the hall. Every wolf present felt it in their bones.

And Aurora could only stand there, caught in the shadow of his fury, her lies collapsing like ash in the wind.