Freya’s POV
The call ca just after noon, as I was wrapping up my Saturday work session. The screen lit up with a na I hadn’t seen in months: Michael Harrison—my father’s pack’s Beta.
"Michael?" I answered, unable to hide the surprise in my voice.
"Freya." His deep voice carried the familiar cadence of my childhood territory. "I hope I’m not disturbing you."
"Not at all," I replied, minimizing the code I’d been working on. "Is everything okay? You don’t usually call."
There was a pause—the kind that made my wolf, Selene, pace anxiously inside .
"We’ve had visitors," he said carefully. "Wolves from the Howlthorne Pack have been spotted in our territory three tis this week. They’re not being subtle about it."
My fingers tightened around the phone. The Howlthornes were Aurora’s pack.
"What did they want?" I asked, though I already suspected the answer.
"They claim to be passing through, but they’ve been asking questions. About you, specifically. About your parents, your childhood. Your relationship to the Shadow Pack."
I closed my eyes briefly. This wasn’t random. This was calculated—a deliberate provocation.
"Have they made any direct threats?"
"Not verbally," Michael answered. "But they’ve been hunting on our lands. Left the carcasses displayed at boundary markers. It’s sending a ssage."
"I’ll handle it," I promised, my mind already racing through options.
"Freya..." Michael hesitated. "Your father wanted to remind you that while you’ll always have a place here, we can’t afford open hostility with a pack of their size."
"I understand," I said softly. "Tell him not to worry. I’m still Luna of the Shadow Pack. I’ll speak with Silvano imdiately."
After ending the call, I paced my small apartnt, Selene growling restlessly beneath my skin. The title I’d just claid—Luna of the Shadow Pack—felt hollow in my mouth. When was the last ti I’d actually functioned as Luna? When had Silvano last treated as his equal partner rather than an inconvenient obligation?
Still, this wasn’t just about . This was about innocent wolves being threatened because of my connection to them.
I dialed Silvano’s number, unsurprised when it went straight to voicemail. He rarely answered my calls these days. I left a brief ssage explaining the urgency of the situation, then tried again. And again.
On the fourth attempt, soone finally picked up—but it wasn’t Silvano.
"Freya," Aurora’s lodic voice lilted through the speaker. "What a surprise."
My wolf snarled, hackles rising instantly. "I need to speak with Silvano," I stated flatly, refusing to engage in pleasantries.
"He’s in a eting right now," she replied smoothly. "With the Granite Ridge delegation. Very important negotiations."
"This is pack business, Aurora. It’s urgent."
"I’m sure it is," she murmured, her tone suggesting the exact opposite. "I’d be happy to take a ssage."
I bit back the urge to remind her that I was still Luna of the Shadow Pack, not so subordinate to be managed. "Howlthorne Pack mbers have been spotted marking territory boundaries near my parents’ pack. Three separate incidents this week."
"Interesting," she finally said. "I’ll be sure to pass that along when he’s available."
"This isn’t a ssage to ’pass along,’ Aurora. It’s a direct threat to allied territory. I need to speak with my mate now."
"Your mate," she repeated, emphasizing the possessive pronoun, "has entrusted to screen his calls while he’s handling delicate negotiations. If you’d like, I can try to schedule you in for tomorrow afternoon."
Schedule in? My fingers tightened around the phone until my knuckles whitened.
"Aurora, this is—"
"An issue that will be handled appropriately," she interrupted smoothly. "I’ll make sure Silvano is inford. Now if you’ll excuse , Isabella is asking for her afternoon snack."
The ntion of my daughter—being cared for by Aurora instead of —sent a sharp pain through my chest.
"Put her on the phone," I demanded.
"She’s quite busy at the mont. Art project. Wouldn’t want to interrupt her concentration."
Before I could protest further, Aurora continued, "I’ll have Silvano call you when he’s available. Have a lovely day, Freya."
The call ended.
I stared at the silent phone, rage and helplessness battling within .
With trembling fingers, I dialed Silvano again.
This ti, it went straight to voicemail.
Again. Voicemail.
A third attempt. Voicemail.
"Damn it, Silvano!" I hurled the phone onto the couch cushions, fury and frustration burning hot tears behind my eyes.
I paced the living room, considering my options. Calling Levi or Adrian was pointless; they’d side with Silvano without question. The Stone Lake Pack couldn’t afford to wait for diplomatic channels.
A mory surfaced—Xander’s concerned eyes at the park, his genuine interest in my well-being. The ease with which he’d included in his morning with Cici. The way his wolf had recognized sothing in mine.
No. I couldn’t drag another Alpha into this. Not when it would only confirm Silvano’s suspicions.
There was only one option left: I needed to confront Silvano directly. In person. Where he couldn’t avoid or hand off to Aurora.
Decision made, I gathered the evidence Timothy had sent, packed an overnight bag, and texted our housekeeper that I’d be staying at the main house tonight. Then I drove the familiar route to the Shadow Pack’s Alpha residence—the ho that had once been mine too.
I still had keys. I was still, legally and by bond, his Luna.
It was ti I reminded him of that fact.
---
The grand stone mansion looked exactly as I rembered—imposing and elegant, a physical representation of the Shadow Pack’s power. I parked in the circular driveway, noting with bitter amusent that my access code to the garage still worked. At least Silvano hadn’t completely erased .
Inside, the house humd with quiet efficiency. Staff mbers nodded respectfully as I passed—their expressions a mixture of surprise and uncertainty. How long had it been since I’d walked these halls as Luna instead of visitor?
"Mrs. Moretti," the housekeeper greeted , her eyes wide. "We weren’t expecting you."
"I’m aware," I replied, forcing a smile. "Is my room still available?"
A flash of discomfort crossed her features. "Of course. Would you like to have your bags taken up?"
"Please. And I’d appreciate it if you’d let know when my mate and daughter arrive."
I spent the afternoon in the Alpha’s study, reviewing Timothy’s evidence and preparing my argunt. The Howlthorne Pack’s encroachnt was a clear provocation, likely intended to test Silvano’s commitnt to protecting his mate’s birth pack. Aurora’s family would never make such a bold move without her knowledge, which ant this was almost certainly her doing.
But why now? What had changed?
My contemplation was interrupted by the distant sound of a car in the driveway, followed by Isabella’s excited chatter. My heart leapt at the sound of my daughter’s voice.
I stepped into the foyer just as they entered—Isabella racing ahead, Silvano following with his usual controlled grace, a hint of exhaustion around his eyes.
"Mommy!" Isabella squealed, spotting and launching herself into my arms.
I caught her, breathing in her familiar scent—pine needles and sunshine and sothing uniquely her own. "Hello, little wolf," I murmured against her hair. "I’ve missed you."
"I missed you too! Auntie Aurora helped make a painting for you, but I left it at the office." She pulled back, her eyes—so like Silvano’s—bright with excitent. "Can I show you tomorrow?"
"Of course, sweetheart."
Over her head, my eyes t Silvano’s. His expression was unreadable, his posture tense.
"Isabella," he said, his voice gentle despite the tension I could sense coiled within him, "why don’t you go upstairs and get ready for bed? I need to speak with your mother."
Isabella looked between us, suddenly hesitant.
"Will you co tuck in, Mommy?" she asked, a hint of uncertainty in her voice that broke my heart.
"Nothing would stop ," I promised, kissing her forehead before setting her down.
We both watched as she climbed the grand staircase, her small hand trailing along the polished banister.
When she disappeared from view, Silvano turned to , his mask of indifference firmly in place. "This is unexpected."
"So was having Aurora screen your calls," I countered, keeping my voice low. "We need to talk."
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