Chapter 23

Ethan's POV

Riley stood there, tears streaming down her face, silver-blue eyes glistening with what appeared to be genuine distress. I suppressed a sigh of irritation. After spending hours preparing for tomorrow's meeting, the last thing I needed was this kind of dramatic interruption.

"Calm down, Riley," I said, gesturing for her to sit. "Slowly—what did Freya do?"

"She threatened me!" she said in a trembling voice, moving to my side, then collapsing onto me as if she could no longer support her own body.

I caught her instinctively, my hands steadying her shoulders as she pressed against my chest. Her familiar scent—pine needles and fresh snow—filled my nostrils, but something felt off. Rowan stirred uneasily inside me.

"What exactly happened?" I asked, gently putting distance between us.

Riley's lower lip trembled as she looked up at me. "I went to her tent to check on her injuries, to see if she was alright after the hunt, and she... she threatened me, Ethan. She told me to leave you or she'd make sure I never walked again."

Three years ago, I would have believed Riley without hesitation. I had done exactly that when she'd told me Freya had plagiarized her silver designs. That accusation had seeded a deep dislike in me before I'd even met Freya. It was no coincidence I'd chosen her as my contractual mate—I'd deliberately selected someone I believed I could never truly love, someone whose mixed blood would ensure emotional distance.

Yet three years of living with Freya had shown me a different person than Riley had described. She was kind to the household staff, even those who barely concealed their contempt for her half-blood status. She helped strangers without expecting recognition. Not once had she wielded her position as Alpha's mate to punish those who disrespected her. And not once had I stepped in to defend her, something that now filled me with a strange, hollow guilt.

I couldn't make sense of what was happening. My thoughts constantly circled back to Freya, like a wolf patrolling the boundaries of its territory. More disturbing was the realization that my once-absolute trust in Riley had developed hairline fractures. The memory of Riley's wolf darting through the trees resurfaced—her movements fluid and graceful, showing no signs of the knee injury she claimed limited her shifting abilities. That image refused to fade from my thoughts.

My expression must have betrayed my skepticism because Riley quickly added more details.

"There's something else," Riley whispered, moving closer again. "I think there's something going on between her and that human doctor, Noah."

My jaw clenched involuntarily. The name alone was enough to trigger a surge of possessiveness I had no right to feel.

"What do you mean?" My voice came out harsher than intended.

"The way they look at each other... talk to each other. I've seen them whispering together." Riley's eyes widened with calculated innocence. "She's still your mate on paper, Ethan. If she's betraying you with a human, it reflects badly on all of us."

The suggestion sent a wave of jealousy through me, but I forced myself to remain logical. I remembered the hospital corridor, Freya's defensive posture as Noah stood beside her. There had been trust there, certainly—but betrayal? My instincts said no, even as doubt crept in.

"I'll look into it," I said finally, taking a step back.

Riley wiped at her tears, her composure returning suspiciously fast. "I have a favor to ask," she said, tone shifting.

I tensed, afraid she might push for us to formalize our relationship sooner, something I wasn't ready to discuss while my thoughts remained so tangled around Freya.

"What is it?" I asked cautiously.

"I'd like to work at Moonlight Crafts," she said, surprising me. "I studied silverware design in Europe. I understand their aesthetic sensibilities, which could be valuable for your collaboration with Shadow Collection."

Relief washed through me. This request was simple, professional—something I could grant without complication.

"Of course," I nodded. "I'll speak with Lucas about it tomorrow."

Riley beamed, leaning up to kiss my cheek before stepping back. "Thank you, Ethan. This means so much to me."

After she left, I sank into my chair, the silence of the office suddenly oppressive. Her recovery seemed to be progressing well if she was already focusing on work matters after undergoing a trial. That was the advantage of pure-blooded werewolves. Unlike Freya, who had to put in twice the effort for everything, stubbornly insisting on doing things herself, getting herself injured like a clumsy rabbit.

My hand reached for my phone before I'd fully formed the thought. I needed to hear Freya's voice, to gauge whether there was any truth to Riley's accusations.

The call went straight to voicemail.

"Damn it," I muttered, dropping the phone onto my desk. Frustration bubbled inside me, amplified by Rowan's agitation.

"I should have marked her when I had the chance," the thought surfaced unbidden. "Then I could reach her through our mental link."

I froze, shocked by my own desire. The impulse to claim Freya, to sink my teeth into the junction between her neck and shoulder, creating a permanent bond—it was primal and overwhelming.

"She's not my true mate," I reminded myself aloud, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes. "Riley is."

But even as I said the words, images of Freya invaded my mind: her skin warm beneath my hands as I treated her wounds, the soft sounds she made as I touched her, the way her scent had changed, becoming richer, more complex.

"It's just the moon magic," I reasoned. "Just my wolf's instincts responding to a female in our territory."

I spent the night restlessly reviewing documents, preparing for Sebastian's visit while fighting thoughts of Freya.

The next morning, I stood in the executive conference room at Blackwood Enterprise headquarters, watching Lucas nervously adjust the display of silverware pieces. His hands trembled slightly as he positioned each item just so.

"He's here," James announced from the doorway.

I straightened my tie and squared my shoulders, slipping into the role of Alpha business leader with practiced ease. When Sebastian entered, I stepped forward to greet him.

"Mr. Laurent, welcome to Blackwood Enterprises." I extended my hand, meeting his gaze directly.

Sebastian was tall for a European werewolf, with sharp features and calculating gray eyes. He assessed me quickly before accepting my handshake.

"Alpha Blackwood, a pleasure to finally meet you." His accent was refined, his grip firm without challenging. "I've heard much about your pack's territory. Beautiful forests, I'm told."

"Thank you. We're proud of Silver Moon Territory," I replied, gesturing toward the conference table. "Please, let me introduce Lucas Silver, head of Moonlit Crafts."

Lucas stepped forward, his nervousness evident only to those who knew him well. I maintained a calm, assured presence beside him, lending him my strength through proximity—an Alpha's silent support.

As Lucas presented the silver designs, I observed Sebastian's reactions. His interest seemed genuine, his questions precise and knowledgeable. When Lucas finished, I signaled for James to bring in our gift.

"Mr. Laurent, I understand you appreciate rare spirits," I said, as James placed an ornate wooden box on the table. "This is Blood Moon wine, produced only on our territory during blood moons. These bottles are from my family's private reserve, aged one hundred years."

Sebastian's eyes widened slightly—the first genuine emotion I'd seen from him. "Alpha Blackwood, this is... extraordinarily generous."

I inclined my head, satisfaction flowing through me. The gift had hit its mark.

"Perhaps after our meeting," Sebastian said, glancing out the window at the forest visible in the distance, "I might tour the forest? I'd love to experience the North American wilderness that inspires such artistry."

"It would be my pleasure to arrange that," I replied smoothly.