Chapter 11

Ethan's POV

Freya clutched the folder tighter against her chest, her knuckles whitening with the effort. Her eyes darted briefly to Noah, then back to me—a silent plea for intervention, for protection. Something was in that report she didn't want me to see. My Alpha instincts flared instantly, demanding to know what my mate was hiding.

"Give me the report, Freya," I said, my voice dropping to that particular timbre that carried the weight of Alpha command—not quite using the full force that would make disobedience impossible, but enough that every wolf in hearing range would feel the pressure to comply.

I watched the struggle play across her face—the slight tremble of her lower lip, the defiant lift of her chin even as her pupils dilated in response to my authority. She was fighting it, harder than most wolves could, but I could see the moment her resistance began to crumble.

Her defiance sparked a surge of anger that surprised me with its intensity. Just minutes ago, she'd been laughing freely with Noah—a human doctor—her entire face lighting up in a way I'd never witnessed before.

Now, faced with her Alpha, her legal mate, she offered nothing but resistance and suspicion. The contrast burned like wolfsbane in my veins. What did this human have that I didn't? Why would she share her joy, her secrets with him while fighting tooth and claw to keep me at a distance?

The possessive thought startled me. Freya had never been mine, not really. Our relationship was an arrangement, a three-year contract that we were about to dissolve. So why did seeing her smile at Noah make me want to tear out his throat?

I reached out slowly, deliberately, maintaining eye contact as I slipped the folder from her grasp. A flash of defeat crossed her features—quickly masked by anger—but not before I caught the fear beneath it. Her scent spiked with anxiety as my fingers closed around the report.

"Excuse me, could you please clear the hallway? We need to get a patient through." a nurse called out, momentarily distracting me.

I looked up from Freya's medical file and glanced toward the nurse's voice; she was referring to another corridor. When I glanced back down, I saw only a diagnosis for "gastric discomfort" and prescription recommendations. Had I imagined seeing the word "pup" moments before? My eyes narrowed, trying to find it again.

"Fine," I muttered, still staring at the report. Something felt off, but I couldn't place what.

"Well, isn't this cozy," came a sharp, feminine voice. Ivy approached, her fingertips sparkling with magic of a type I couldn't identify. "The mighty Alpha of Moonshade Pack making house calls at the hospital. How touching. Your precious Riley's injuries all better? Funny how fast she healed, considering she supposedly couldn't shift."

Her words pierced my mind like a thorn. Riley's recovery speed... was indeed unreasonably fast. But before I could think deeper, Ivy spoke again.

"By the way, Freya stayed at my place last night. Not that you care."

Relief washed over me so intensely it was almost embarrassing. She hadn't stayed with Noah.

My mind flashed back to yesterday evening—pushing open the heavy oak doors of Silver Moon Manor, something feeling immediately off. The house had seemed emptier, quieter. I'd inhaled deeply, searching for that familiar scent of wildflowers and fresh herbs that always lingered when Freya was home. Nothing.

"Alpha," Olivia had greeted me, her eyes holding a hint of disapproval I wasn't accustomed to seeing from the pack's housekeeper. "Ms. Hayes hasn't returned."

"I didn't ask," I'd replied, my voice sharper than intended.

Olivia's eyebrow had arched slightly. "Of course not. I just thought you might wonder, considering tonight's... incident."

I sat at my desk last night, staring at financial reports that suddenly seemed meaningless. I couldn't focus. Rowan had paced restlessly inside me, emitting low, continuous growls that vibrated through my chest.

"Quiet", I'd commanded, but he only growled louder.

My eyes had drifted to the bottom drawer where I kept the bottle of whiskey. As I'd reached for it, flashes of memory from that night with Freya burst through my mind—her skin beneath my hands, the taste of her lips, the way she'd whispered my name. The wolfsbane's effects had faded, leaving behind fragments of recollection that I'd been suppressing.

I'd slammed the drawer shut. These memories meant nothing. Riley was back. She was the one I'd been waiting for. She was my true mate—she had to be.

But last night, I dreamed of Freya standing at the edge of a cliff, her arms wrapped protectively around her middle, tears streaming down her face. I tried to reach her, but my feet were rooted to the ground. Just as she began to fall backward into the abyss, I jerked awake with a roar that shook the walls.

My breathing had come in ragged gasps as I looked down at my hands—halfway transformed into claws. Fur had sprouted along my forearms, and I could feel my canines elongated in my mouth. I hadn't lost control during sleep since I was a teenager.

Rowan's influence was like a fever in my blood, clouding my judgment. Just this once, I wanted to let the wolf lead, to follow the instinct that had been clawing at my insides since I'd found the manor empty of her presence. The logical part of me knew this was temporary insanity, that tomorrow I'd regret this impulse, but right now, with her standing before me, I couldn't bring myself to care.

I blinked, refocusing on the hospital corridor where we stood, the sterile scent of antiseptic mingling with Freya's unique fragrance.

"I'll take Freya home now," I said, surprising even myself.

Freya's head snapped up. "What?"

"You heard me." I folded the report and handed it back to her. "You're still my mate, at least officially. It's appropriate for you to be on pack territory."

"Are you serious?" Disbelief colored her voice. "You can't just—"

"I can, and I am."

"After what happened last night, you think you can just—" Ivy began, stepping between us.

"It's fine, Ivy," Freya interrupted, her eyes never leaving mine. "You can't have it both ways, Ethan. After everything that happened yesterday, after you stood by and let them throw me out, now you're ordering me back?"

Her accusation hit home, and I found myself at a loss for words. She was right—my behavior made no sense, even to me. A part of my brain—the rational, calculating Alpha part—was screaming that I was acting against my own interests, against the plan I'd carefully laid out. Yet something deeper, something primal, was pushing me forward. After that nightmare, waking up half-shifted and terrified of losing her, I wanted—no, needed—to know where she was. To ensure she was safe. To have her scent back in our den.

"Are you even listening to me?" Freya's sharp voice cut through my thoughts, yanking me back to the hospital corridor. Her face showed a mixture of frustration and hurt.

"You need to come back to sign the dissolution papers," I said, the excuse sounding hollow even to my own ears.

Freya's eyes flashed with hurt before hardening into cold determination. "Fine! If you're so eager to be rid of me, I'll go sign RIGHT NOW!"