A Warrior Luna's Awakening (Freya and Caelum) novel Chapter 92

Chapter 92

Freya’s POV

“Were it not for them, there would be no Stormveil Pack standing proud today!”

The voice rang like thunder in the Primal Hall, rolling off the carved stone walls.

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I lifted my head. Abel Thorne–my First Uncle–stood at the threshold, his expression carved with the authority of decades. Of all the elders of our bloodline, seemingly he was the one Jocelyn feared most.

Her smug defiance crumbled in an instant. Color drained from her face.

“Jocelyn,” Abel’s tone carried the weight of Alpha command, sharp enough to pierce marrow. “Offer your respect to the fallen. Were it not for the sacrifices of your ancestors, you would not be living in comfort today.”

I saw her jaw clench, lips trembling. She had always believed her suffering–her eye lost in some secret bargain—was enough to justify her arrogance. She told herself the wealth and honor of the pack were her doing. But Abel had stripped her pride bare in front of me.

“Do it,” Abel pressed, voice colder, heavier.

Reluctance warred with fear in her eyes. At last, Jocelyn lowered her head to the tablets of the Fifth Branch and struck the stone floor with her forehead. The sound of her forced kowtow echoed through the hall.

My heart swelled hot with vindication. Not for myself, but for my father, for my mother, for every name engraved in stone who had given their blood so Stormveil could stand.

Abel turned his gaze on me, and for the first time in days, I felt the weight on my shoulders lighten.

“You are not alone, Freya,” he said firmly. “The Stormveil Pack will always be your shield. Remember that.”

“I know,” I whispered, swallowing past the tightness in my throat.

When I stepped out into the open air beyond the Hall, the WolfComm in my pocket chimed, I lifted it to

my ear.

“Where are you right now?” Lana’s voice came through, bright and impatient.

“In Ashbourne,” I answered.

She huffed. “Of course I know you’re in Ashbourne. I meant where exactly.”

I blinked. “Outside the Stormveil Primal Hall.”

“Perfect. Half an hour. I’ll meet you there.”

I froze mid–step. “Wait–what? You’re in Ashbourne?”

“Just landed. See you soon!” she said, and cut the call.

A startled laugh slipped past my lips. Typical Lana.

“But still-”

Before he could finish, my WolfComm buzzed again.

I lifted it to my ear. “Hello?”

“Where are you?” Silas Whitmor’s voice cut across the line, low and commanding.

“In a diner near the Primal Hall,” I answered cautiously.

“A diner.” His voice paused, a dangerous edge sliding beneath the word. A moment later, his tone sharpened. “With Kade Blackridge?”

My heart stopped.

I looked up–and there he was.

Through the glass wall of the diner, across the street in front of a tall building, Silas stood, his presence unmistakable. His golden eyes locked on me through the crowd, through the glass, burning like fire.

Even across the distance, I felt the pull of the bond like chains coiled tight around my throat.

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