A Warrior Luna's Awakening (Freya and Caelum) novel Chapter 86

Chapter 86

Third Person’s POV

Ken Thorne’s sharp gaze softened into something warmer, almost grandfatherly.

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“Good… good… good!” he thundered, his voice carrying like the growl of an elder Alpha. “The blood of the Fifth Line deserves its place in the Stormveil Primal Hall. The ashes of Arthur and Myra shall rest where they belong! I would like to see who dares stand in the way!”

As his words fell, his ironwood staff struck the stone floor with a thunderous crack. The sound reverberated through the ancient hall like a war drum. Silence fell instantly. No wolf in the courtyard dared to breathe too loudly.

“Freya,” Ken’s voice softened as he turned toward her, “come. Carry your parents‘ ashes and walk with me, your great–grandsire, into the Primal Hall.”

“Yes, Alpha–Elder,” Freya answered firmly Her arms tightened protectively around the urn cloaked in the national colors.

But before she could move, a voice rang/out.

“I want to walk in with her.”

The crowd turned. Silas Whitmor, Alpha of the Ironclad Coalition, stepped forward, his presence alone drawing a murmur of shock.

Ken Thorne’s eyes narrowed. “This is the Stormveil Pack’s ancestral rite. Outsiders have no place within the Primal Hall.”

A flicker of irritation crossed Silas’s face.

Freya moved closer to him and lowered her voice. “This is Stormveil’s hall, Silas. Today is about my bloodline. But… thank you.”

“Thank me?” For a heartbeat Silas was caught off guard. Was that truly what he had been doing–caring? If not, why had he spoken so impulsively? Why had he stepped forward as if her battle was his own?

After a pause, he said quietly, “Then I will wait here until you return.”

The words rippled through the gathered wolves like a storm wind. The Alpha of the Ironclad Coalition, the infamous Whitmor, waiting outside Stormveil’s hall–for her? Eyes darted between them, stunned, whispering disbelief.

Freya studied his face a moment longer before giving a small nod. “Alright.”

Then, straightening, she turned back to Ken Thorne and followed him into the Stormveil Primal Hall. The rest of the pack, elders and kin alike, exchanged uneasy glances before trailing inside behind her.

The injured guards who had tried to bar her way earlier were carried off to heal, while the enforcers kept the swelling crowd at bay. Slowly, the throng dispersed until the stone courtyard emptied, leaving Silas Whitmor standing sentinel before the Primal Hall’s looming doors.

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Chapter 86

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His gaze lingered on the carved totems of wolves and moons etched into the archway. Yet his thoughts replayed only one image–Freya’s face as she had spoken outside, sorrow and unyielding pride burning together.

A lineage of martyrs. A bloodline that had given everything.

He had once thought of her as merely an amusing challenge, a distraction in his restless Alpha life. But now… something was shifting. Something primal.

you think the ancestors do not see?”

do

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Chapter 86

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Jocelyn scrambled to explain, her voice honeyed with excuses. “Great–grandfather, how was I to know she was truly of the Fifth Line? Her name carried no generational mark, and many wolves attempt to claim ties to Stormveil for their own gain. I could not have known-”

Ken’s staff struck again. Sparks of wolf–magic shivered across the floor. “And so you would cast out the blood of martyrs, while defending your own pride? Kneel, or be stripped of your Stormveil name!”

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A Warrior Luna’s Awakening