A Warrior Luna's Awakening (Freya and Caelum) novel Chapter 76

Chapter 76

Freya’s POV

I never sought out trouble. But I was never the kind to fear it either.

+8 Pearls

“She’s from the Ashbourne Throne Family’s first line,” Silas said slowly, his gaze unwavering. “And Freya, you and she share the same surname. Surely you don’t think that’s coincidence.”

My breath caught. In The Ashbourne, there was only one Thorne name worth mentioning–our ancestral hall still stood in the city’s golden heart, shadowed by Stormveil Pack’s banners.

“So it seems,” I said coolly, “that fate has a twisted sense of humor.”

Which meant Jocelyn Thorne of the Metropolitan Pack–was my cousin.

I hadn’t yet returned to my bloodline, and already I’d clashed with her.

Silas tilted his head. “You don’t want to ask what ties I have to Jocelyn?”

I’m just a bodyguard.” My words were clipped, final.

In other words, whoever Jocelyn was to him–lover, enemy, ghost–it wasn’t my concern.

I refused to drown in the swamp of another man’s tangled past.

But Silas didn’t stop. His voice lowered, rough like iron scraping steel.

“Her eye… almost ruined by my hand. The orb was spared, but her vision never recovered.”

I froze. Jocelyn had once whispered that Silas cared for nothing but her eyes.

His next words made my pulse spike.

“I was eight years old. My mind–shattered. I remember my hands on her throat. My nails digging… gouging toward her eye until I almost ripped it from her skull.”

A chill raced down my spine. My wolf bristled inside me. I hadn’t expected that.

But outwardly, I kept my face calm. I’d seen enough war, enough carnage in the field with the Iron Fang Recon Unit. My youth had been spent staring into the pits of conflict beyond our borders. Compared to those flames, this truth did not shake

1. me.

“You’re not afraid?” he pressed, his obsidian eyes catching the low light.

2

“I’ve seen worse,” I said simply. “Perhaps that’s why fear doesn’t come easily to me.”

I let my gaze linger on him, my wolf brushing the edges of his aura. “If anything, I think you and Jocelyn are both… tragic.”

His lips quirked, sharp. “So you pity me?”

No one had ever called Silas Whitmor pitiful. He was the cursed Alpha of the Ironclad Coalition. The beast and the sinner.

“You were eight,” I countered, “lost in madness. That’s not a monster. That’s a child carrying the weight of a curse.”

His laugh was low, dangerous. “Careful, little wolf. That kind of sympathy can get you killed. Stay too close to a beast, and one day its teeth might pierce your throat. What if I lose my mind again? Would you fear me tearing out your eyes? Remember, I am not a weak child anymore.”

12:52 PM P P

But I saw the doubt in his eyes now.

What I didn’t expect was for Silas to shadow me through the hallways, towering at my side even as I signed in at the clinic.

His mouth curved, a wolf’s smile. “You’re my shield. Where else would I be but with you?”

I bit back a retort and let him follow.

When my name was called, I stepped into the examination room. After I explained the injuries, the physician gestured at the bed.

“Remove your boots and lie down,” the doctor said. “I need to check your abdomen.”

I bent to unlace them–then hissed when pain tore through my ribs and stomach, remnants of the Capital’s airport skirmish.

The doctor frowned. “In that case, let your husband help you.”

My head snapped up. “Husband?”

The doctor’s eyes flicked to Silas, looming silent beside me.

Heat rushed to my cheeks. “He’s not my husband.”

The physician arched a brow. “Then your mate, surely. Don’t just stand there, Alpha. Your she–wolf is injured. Help her.”

I opened my mouth to protest again, but Silas’s hand was already at my ankle, his touch burning like fire through the leather of my boot.

And my wolf… betrayed me with a tremor.

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