Chapter 26

Freya's POV

Sebastian's question hung in the air like a silver dagger, poised to strike. From my hiding spot behind the massive ancient oak, I held my breath, my heart hammering so loudly I feared it might give me away. My fingers dug into the soft earth as I waited for Ethan's response.

"Mr. Blackwood?" Seeing that Ethan didn't respond, Sebastian gave a reminder, his European accent adding a musical quality to the question that belied its weight.

Before Ethan could open his mouth, Riley stepped forward eagerly. "As the Alpha's partner, I'm delighted to welcome a representative from the European packs to our territory," she announced, her voice dripping with honeyed authority.

My chest constricted painfully. Ember whimpered low in my consciousness, the wolf in me reacting with visceral hurt to what we were witnessing. I watched Ethan's face, searching desperately for signs of denial or discomfort. His expression was complex, lips parting slightly as if to speak, but no words came. His eyes darted away from Sebastian's questioning gaze.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, politely nodding while something flickered across his features—doubt, perhaps. "I see," he said smoothly. He glanced around, as if sensing something amiss. "This forest is truly magnificent. I look forward to our partnership."

I couldn't bear another second. The pain in my chest had become physical, Ember's rage and betrayal washing through me in scorching waves. "Alpha betrayed us." Her howl reverberated through my mind, demanding retribution, demanding acknowledgment.

I inched backward, determined to leave without detection. Each movement was calculated, controlled despite the storm raging within me. I needed to get away before my scent or my breaking heart gave me away.

As I retreated, my foot caught on a dry branch. The snap seemed to explode in the quiet forest, impossibly loud to my sensitive ears.

Sebastian and Ethan both turned sharply toward my hiding place. I froze, melting into the shadows beneath an ancient oak. Sebastian's lips curved into a curious smile.

"Your territory seems to hold many secrets, Mr. Blackwood," he murmured, eyes scanning the treeline where I hid.

I didn't wait to hear Ethan's response. With every ounce of control I possessed, I slipped away through the underbrush, silent as the ghost I was becoming in Ethan's life.

---

The walk back to the camp was a blur. Only when I was safely hidden from view did I allow the tears to fall, hot tracks down my cheeks that I quickly wiped away. I tilted my chin up, staring at the canopy of leaves above me.

"No more tears," I whispered to myself. "Not for someone who won't even claim me in public."

Ember stirred restlessly, her anger gradually transforming into something fiercer, more protective. I placed my hand over my abdomen, feeling the slight swell that was barely noticeable to anyone but me.

"Only you are real," I murmured to my unborn child. "Only you matter now. We're going to become stronger together, my little wolf cub."

Ember circled within me, her energy wrapping protectively around where our baby grew. Her anger at Ethan remained, but it was overshadowed by her fierce determination to protect what was truly ours.

Back at my tent, I pulled out my mother's silver-working tools, arranging them carefully on the small folding table. Creating something beautiful from raw silver had always calmed me, focused my mind. Today, I would channel this pain into creation.

My phone rang, interrupting my thoughts. Noah's name flashed on the screen.

"How are you feeling?" His voice was warm with concern.

"I've been better," I admitted, not bothering to hide the thickness in my voice.

"I'll be there tomorrow for the trial," he said firmly. "For medical support. Don't even think about refusing."

I sighed. "Noah, you don't need to get involved in pack business. It could be dangerous for you."

"Bella made me promise to look after you before you left for Fierceclaw Academy." His voice softened with the memory. "She said, 'If I'm not here, be her guardian.'"

The mention of my mother sent a pang through my heart. "She did?"

"My mother died when I was young," Noah continued. "Bella was like a mother to me. She taught me to understand the supernatural world, how to treat werewolves. I owe her everything."

I closed my eyes, picturing my mother's kind face. How many lives had she touched that I never knew about?

"Besides," Noah added, his tone lightening slightly, "as your obstetrician, I need to make sure both you and the little one are okay after the trial."

I couldn't argue with that logic. "Fine. But stay at the perimeter. The Mind's Reflection trial is unpredictable."

After we hung up, I spent an hour reviewing what I knew about the second trial. Unlike the physical challenge of the hunt, this would test mental fortitude, forcing competitors to face their deepest fears through magical illusions.

As night fell, I prepared for bed, my body tired but my mind still racing. Just as I was smoothing out my blankets, a soft rustling sound outside my tent made me freeze. The whisper of fabric against fabric, the faintest pressure of a footstep on pine needles. My pulse spiked instantly, adrenaline flooding my system.

After the trap in the forest, I knew exactly how vulnerable I was here—a half-blood, pregnant female surrounded by rivals who'd already tried to eliminate me once. I strained my ears, hearing nothing but the thundering of my own heart. Had Riley returned to finish what she started? Or was it another competitor, sensing my weakness and seeking to remove me from tomorrow's trial? The silence stretched, broken only by another whisper of movement, closer now. I was utterly alone, with only a thin layer of fabric between me and whatever threat prowled outside.

My pulse quickened as I silently reached for the silver dagger I kept beside my bed.

I took a deep breath, my knuckles whitening around the dagger's hilt as I crouched into a defensive stance. One hand instinctively moved to shield my abdomen before I forced it back to the tent flap. In one swift movement, I yanked it open, my body coiled to strike at whatever threat lurked outside.

The moonlit camp lay still and empty before me, the sudden silence more terrifying than any growl or challenge. My eyes darted between shadows, searching for movement, for the telltale reflection of wolf eyes in darkness. Nothing but shadows and the gentle sway of trees in the night breeze, yet the hair on my neck remained raised.

There—the faintest trace of a familiar smell, too diluted to identify. My eyes dropped to the ground, where barely visible footprints marked the earth.

Someone had been here.