CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
Before Seraphine could continue, she paused, her voice laced with hesitation. “Anyway, they are locked in the dungeon, and Alpha Alaric has forbidden every Wolfsbane Pack member from ever speaking your name again.”

Those words echoed in Luna Celeste’s mind like a curse. It wasn’t her silenced name that cut her—it was the thought of loyal pack members wasting away in the dungeon because of their defiance in her favor. The injustice gnawed at her heart, filling her with sorrow and a bitter helplessness.

Since when had Alpha Alaric turned into such a tyrant? She remembered the man who once carried the hopes of the Wolfsbane Pack, and now he stood as its oppressor.

If only someone strong enough could rise against him—someone with the courage to undo the wrong he had done, the same way she had once saved lives despite the cost.

At that thought, Nyla’s face appeared in her memory. Where had her steadfast friend gone? Was she still among the packs, or had she returned to the human world in Duskwatch City? The uncertainty gnawed at her spirit.

“He cannot do this,” Luna Celeste said suddenly, her voice cracking with fiery anger. “Someone must bring him before the peace council. He has no right to strip pack members of their freedom, no matter who they supported.”

The fury radiating off her startled Seraphine, though the truth of the matter justified it. Celeste had always been measured, restrained—yet the thought of injustice being done in her name set her ablaze.

“I heard from one of the Shadow Elite who serves as our informant inside Wolfsbane that many members regret ever siding with him,” Seraphine explained cautiously.

“They wish they had stood with you. That’s why he punished them. And worse still… they compared you with Brielle, mocking her for never stepping forward to address the pack after the attack. They called her weak.”

Seraphine’s heart ached when she saw a tear slide down Celeste’s cheek. She had never seen her like this—so vulnerable, so openly broken. She could have stormed the dungeon herself and freed those prisoners, guiding them to Shadowglen Pack or even the peace council. But she wasn’t free. She was little more than a captive in her own skin.

“You’re crying?” Seraphine whispered, guilt swelling in her chest. She had always admired Celeste’s strength, the way she stood like a pillar even when the storm raged. To see her reduced to tears cut deeper than she had expected.

“I feel helpless,” Celeste murmured, wiping her tears though more threatened to fall. “They suffer because of me. How could that ever be fair?”

Seraphine’s stomach twisted with regret. If she had known her words would wound Celeste so deeply, she would have found another way to speak of it—or perhaps said nothing at all.

“If I had known you’d take it this hard, I would’ve kept quiet.”

But Celeste shook her head, her voice firm despite the trembling in her heart. “No, don’t hide anything from me. I need to know, even if it hurts.”

The truth was heavy. If she were free—if she weren’t bound and powerless—she could have led an uprising herself. She could have rallied support, struck Alpha Alaric down, and dragged every one of his supporters with him into ruin. But her name, though whispered in rumors, had not yet been restored. Nothing was official. And Alpha Thorne still had not released her from his oversight.

“Come, let me make you breakfast instead,” she offered softly. She didn’t want Seraphine to start hiding truths from her out of pity.

But Seraphine shook her head. “Later, perhaps. For now, I need to attend training in Ironfang Yard. I’ll eat afterward, but I don’t know if I’ll be back here right away. I’m still looking into that matter with the store managers.”

Thanks to Celeste’s guidance, Seraphine had discovered inconsistencies in the records kept by the pack’s storehouses. She hadn’t yet informed Alpha Thorne—she wanted to be sure before she brought it before him and the managers in a formal setting.

“Good luck,” Celeste whispered with a sad smile. More than anything, she envied Seraphine’s freedom. She herself was branded a traitor in her own homeland. Alpha Alaric had turned her into an exile even while her heart bled for the people who still suffered under his rule.

‘Seraphine, where are you?’ Alpha Thorne’s commanding voice reached through the mindlink, startling her.

‘With Luna Celeste. I’m heading to training now.’

When the link snapped, she turned to Celeste. “Alpha Thorne has returned. I need to go—I’m already late.”

Celeste’s heart clenched. Alpha Thorne was back. That meant Ryker—her secret savior, the one who had cushioned her fall—would have been in danger if he’d lingered any longer. She was grateful he had slipped away when he did.

Seraphine reached Ironfang Yard only to find Alpha Thorne already leading drills. She joined him, pushing herself with relentless discipline. For hours, they sparred and trained until the mountain breeze hinted at midday.

When at last the session ended, Thorne insisted they jog together back to the packhouse. Seraphine, though exhausted, was learning to resist fatigue, and Thorne admired that about her.

Once there, he headed into the kitchen, and she followed. “I should’ve taken food from Celeste,” she said, “but you returned sooner than expected.”

Alpha Thorne’s expression remained calm, but inwardly, his thoughts stirred. He thought of Celeste, of the brokenness hidden behind her resilience. His method of disguise had worked; she still did not know that Ryker, the one who had held her, was in truth Alpha Thorne himself. And he intended to use that ruse to learn more about the mate who had rejected him.

“Why did you go so early this morning?” he asked, casually as he reached for a pan.

Seraphine did not hesitate. “Did you hear what Alaric did? He imprisoned those who spoke in her favor. They sit rotting in the dungeon because of her.”

Alpha Thorne froze mid-motion, the pan clattering slightly against the ironbark counter. So, the bastard hadn’t learned. The message he had sent hadn’t been enough—or perhaps he hadn’t been ruthless enough.

“What do you mean?” His tone dropped, low and sharp.

“He also forbade the pack from even mentioning Luna Celeste’s name.”

As Seraphine explained, his gaze darkened, storm brewing in his eyes. He knew what such news would do to Celeste, how it would fracture her fragile strength.

“Don’t tell her,” he said firmly. “Spare her that pain.”

But Seraphine shook her head with regret. “It’s too late. I already did. And she cried, Alpha. I’ve never seen her so broken.”

Fury roared in Thorne’s chest, though he buried it beneath a cold mask. He lit the fire, cracking eggs into the pan with controlled force. After the vision he had once shared with the moon goddess, his only desire was to shield Celeste from grief, to see her smile again.

But how could she smile, stripped of her wolf, trapped in a fragile human form, carrying the burden of betrayal from her own pack? None of their kind would choose to remain human forever.

To her, it must feel like a cage, a torment.

Seraphine’s voice drew him from his brooding. “Alpha Thorne, isn’t there something you can do for her? I hate seeing her like that.”