A Warrior Luna's Awakening (Freya and Caelum) novel Chapter 84

Chapter 84

Third Person’s POV

The entire crowd froze. Especially Jocelyn.

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Freya’s voice wasn’t only heard by those guarding the Stormveil Primal Hall–it carried beyond, reaching every ear in the bustling heart of Ashbourne.

The Hall stood in the city’s central plaza, its blackstone pillars carved with the runes of Stormveil’s bloodline. The earlier clash had already drawn attention, but Freya’s defiant cry stopped passersby in their tracks. Humans and wolves alike paused, watching as the lone woman stood firm before the sealed gates, clutching the wooden urn draped in a blood–red battle flag.

Jocelyn’s composure cracked, her voice snapping like a whip.

“Drag her away from the gate! Don’t let her shout another word. Do you want the Elders–or the Patriarch himself–disturbed by this circus?”

“Yes, Alpha–heir!” the guards scrambled to obey, their boots crunching against the stone as they surged toward Freya.

At that same moment, Silas emerged from the towering headquarters of Stormveil’s family industries alongside high–ranking Thorne elders. Adel Thorne, Lennon Thorne and the other branch leaders walked at his side, their tone deferential.

“Alpha Silas, had we known you’d be traveling to Ashbourne, we would have prepared a proper welcome,” Adel Thorne offered smoothly. Stormveil had once dominated the city, but its glory had waned. Only Jocelyn’s ties to Silas kept the pack’s prestige afloat.

The other branch elder chimed in, eager to please. “Perhaps tonight we host a cleansing feast in your honor. We could invite Jocelyn as well–you and she grew up like bonded cubs, did you not?”

They meant to remind him of Jocelyn’s “destined bond.” But Silas’s attention had already drifted. His voice cut through their chatter, calm but sharp.

“The Stormveil Primal Hall lies nearby, does it not? I think I’ll take a look.”

The Thornes stiffened. “The… Primal Hall? You wish to go there?”

“Why?” His tone cooled, steel beneath the velvet. “Am I not welcome?”

“Of course, you are! It would be our honor,” Lennon said hastily. “The Patriarch himself is in the Hall today. He would be pleased to meet you.”

They did not understand his sudden interest, but none dared deny him.

“Freya! The Primal Hall is no place for your insolence! I’ve already summoned the City Guard–if you don’t leave now, you’ll be dragged out in chains!”

“I am not here to fight,” Freya’s voice rang like steel against stone. “I am here to honor my blood. To place the ashes of my parents within the Hall!”

Jocelyn’s father, Lennon flustered and sweating, rushed to her side. “What madness is this? Do you think the Hall is open to every stray who claims the Stormveil name?”

Freya’s gaze cut to him like a blade. “Arthur Thorne’s blood runs in my veins. My mother Myra died bearing the same mark. Their spirits deserve the Hall. Their urn will rest here.”

Lennon scoffed, his face pale despite his bluster. “The Fifth Branch has been dead for years! Don’t insult us with lies.”

“Then check the Stormveil Codex,” Freya snapped back, her voice unwavering. “The blood of the Fifth Branch still flows, and I will not be denied.”

Silas‘ fists clenched at his sides as he watched her–every word, every act of defiance stirring something primal in his chest.

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