A Warrior Luna's Awakening (Freya and Caelum) novel Chapter 74

Chapter 74

Freya’s POV

+8 Pearls

From the very first moment I saw him, I knew Silas was not a man meant for ordinary love. Not the kind that lingers a lifetime. Not the kind that belongs to just one person.

I tested him with the question that had been gnawing at my thoughts. “And if they don’t love you? If they change their heart and insist on leaving you?”

Silas’s eyes, the silver glint of his Ironclad Alpha dominance in every line of his face, never wavered. “To me, there is no divorce. Only death. If she can kill me, then she may leave. Otherwise… not.”

I blinked, stunned. The words were said so calmly, so plainly, but their weight struck like iron.

“So… if she doesn’t kill you, she can never leave?” I murmured, my wolf curling inward at the unnatural coldness behind that smile.

“Yes,” he said softly, almost serenely. Yet beneath the calm, his wolf shone–fierce, unyielding, like a predator who sees life Jand death as instinctual law.

For a moment, I froze. The chill in his words cut through the warm scent of the restaurant, leaving me oddly breathless.

Luckily, the server arrived with the first dishes, the aroma of Ashbourne’s finest filling the air, and I let my senses anchor to that small comfort.

I picked up my chopsticks, each bite a memory of my parents‘ love for Stormveil Pack’s home flavors. My wolf nuzzled the faint nostalgia lingering in the air. Silas had brought me here, to Ashbourne’s top–tier dining, yet it was not the taste of memory. Somehow, it lacked the simplicity and warmth of the little local restaurants my father had taken me to years ago.

“Not good?” Silas’s voice drew me out of my thoughts, sharp as a wolf’s fanged smile.

I startled. “No… it’s fine. Very good.”

“But your expression… you don’t seem satisfied,” he said, calm but alert. “If this place displeases you, we can go elsewhere.”

“No need,” I murmured, forcing a small smile. “It’s just a meal. Besides, this restaurant is the best in Ashbourne. Far better than those small spots my parents and Eric would take me to.”

A flicker of something passed in his eyes–interest, curiosity, maybe even the smallest spark of wolf pride.

“You rarely speak of your brother,” he observed quietly. His voice was almost lost in the hum of the restaurant, yet it carried the weight of someone who could read the unspoken.

“He disappeared… five years ago,” I admitted, the shadow of the past darkening my tone. Others said he was likely dead, but my wolf refused to believe it. Not while a shred of Stormveil Pack blood still ran in ine, not while no body had been found. My brother lived, that much I knew.

Shifting the conversation, I said, “While I serve as your protector for the next three months, are there rules or things I should know, Alpha Whitmor?

“Simple,” he replied, his wolf’s authority unmistakable. “Take care of your own tasks in Ashbourne. Protect me during your free hours. Attend functions with me when necessary. That is all.”

“Understood,” I said. Though I had never been a personal bodyguard like this before, I had faced protection and combat in the Iron Fang Recon Unit. This task would not intimidate me.

12:52 PM P p

“Of course,” I said firmly. “I will not leave you.”

A faint smile touched the corners of his cold, sculpted lips. For the first time, a subtle warmth softened his predatory aura. Spring mountains smile indeed. My gaze lingered longer than it probably should have.

After the meal, I excused myself to the restroom. Standing there at the sink, I froze–Jocelyn Thorne, of the Metropolitan Pack’s Stormveil line, was waiting.

“Miss Thorne,” she said, adjusting her gold–rimmed glasses. Her voice was soft, courteous, but there was a subtle edge in her scent that my wolf immediately noted. “Silas said you and he are more than friends. I am curious–what exactly are you?”

I met her gaze evenly. “Nothing,” I said. Nothing at all. Silas and I weren’t friends–barely anything beyond the temporary bond of this protection arrangement.

Jocelyn smiled faintly. “If you prefer not to say, that is fine. But know this–women like you, I see often. They get close to powerful men and mistake attention for significance. In the end, they are nothing more than playthings.”

I raised a brow, letting the wolf in me stir at the challenge. “Is that so? Noted.” I turned and walked away, leaving her observing my back.

And my wolf growled softly, beneath the calm of my exterior. Power, pride, and danger mingled in this room, and I could smell it all–predators in human skin, and the Alpha who had claimed my attention. My senses sharpened, every instinct alive.

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