Chapter 39
Thorne's POV
I stood in the main hall, listening to the steady cadence of Edith's voice as she introduced Freya to the staff. My wolf paced restlessly beneath my skin, unsettled by the mixture of scents that wafted up from below—curiosity, disdain, and the sharp tang of Freya's humiliation.
"Good," I told myself. "Let her feel it. Let her understand her place."
Yet even as I thought it, my wolf whined in disagreement. Something about seeing Freya in that moment—standing in my entryway, stripped of her pride but still refusing to bow her head—had stirred something in me I didn't want to examine.
I retreated to my study, a space that had always provided clarity. The room was lined with books, many of them legal texts passed down through generations of Grey Alphas who had served as judges. The familiar scent of leather and paper usually calmed me, but tonight it did little to quiet my thoughts.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. It was Mark.
"Alpha," he greeted when I answered.
"Report," I responded, my voice clipped.
"Terra Thompson has been released as ordered. We've placed surveillance on her apartment and monitored her communications. So far, she's made no attempt to contact anyone about her release."
I nodded, though he couldn't see me. "Good. Keep it that way. No one is to know she's been released, especially not Freya Riley."
"Understood, Alpha," Mark replied, then hesitated. "May I ask a question, sir?"
"Proceed."
"Why bring the Riley girl to Grey Estate? After all the trouble of catching her, wouldn't Silver Shackle be more appropriate?"
My jaw tightened. "Are you questioning my decisions, Mark?"
"No, Alpha. Never." His response was immediate, scent-marked with submission even through the phone.
"Then focus on your assignment. I expect hourly updates on Thompson's movements."
I ended the call and moved to the window, looking out over the sprawling grounds of Grey Estate. Lights twinkled in the distance where Moon Bay spread out below the hill, a city under my protection and judgment.
The truth was, I wasn't entirely sure why I'd brought Freya here. The logical part of me insisted it was to keep her close, to prevent her from interfering with my investigation. But there was something else, something that had been gnawing at me since she'd mentioned her treatment at Silver Shackle.
"I spent three months in a moon-silver cage before being transported to the Wilds."
Her words echoed in my mind, along with the image of her curled in the corner of the restaurant, caught in a traumatic flashback. I'd seen wolves with silver sickness before—a rare condition that developed after prolonged exposure to moon-silver. But I'd never authorized such treatment for Freya. Her sentence had been exile, not torture.
If what she said was true, someone had exceeded my authority. And that was unacceptable.
But there was another reason I'd brought her here, one I was reluctant to admit even to myself. If Terra Thompson had been released, Freya would have no reason to stay in Moon Bay. She would leave, possibly seek sanctuary with Jasper Stone's pack.
The thought of her in Stone's territory made my wolf bare its teeth.
No. Better to keep her here, where I could watch her. Where she was... safe.
From what, I wasn't ready to examine.
A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts.
"Enter," I called.
Edith stepped in, her posture rigid as always. "I've arranged Miss Riley's accommodation and duties as instructed, Alpha," she reported, her tone completely professional, though I detected the faintest hint of disapproval beneath her carefully controlled scent.
"And?"
"She's been given the old storage room in the east wing, as you suggested. Her uniform is one of the older ones, and I've assigned her appropriate cleaning duties throughout the house."
I nodded. "Good. What is she doing now?"
"Beginning her orientation with routine cleaning tasks, Alpha. I've ensured she understands our standards of excellence." Her voice remained neutral.
"You seem concerned, Edith." I studied her carefully composed expression.
"It's not my place to question your decisions, Alpha," she replied carefully. "Though I do wonder if her presence might... upset Miss Kaelin should she visit. Miss Kaelin has been making such progress lately." The concern in her voice was genuine – for Kaelin, not Freya.
"Kaelin need not know the details of household staffing," I said dismissively. "Is there anything else?"
Edith hesitated, then asked, "What are the restrictions on her movement, Alpha? Should she be confined to the house, or allowed on the grounds?"
"She is not to leave the estate grounds under any circumstances," I replied firmly. "Within the house and immediate gardens, she may go where her duties take her. Nothing more."
"And... her interactions with other staff?"
I considered this for a moment. "Normal working relationships only. No special treatment. Treat her as you would the lowest-ranking staff member."
"Very well, Alpha," Edith nodded, satisfaction briefly flickering across her features before she schooled her expression. "Will you be requiring dinner in your study tonight?"
"No," I decided. "I'll take breakfast in the main dining room tomorrow. Have her serve it."
"As you wish, Alpha." She paused at the door. "I'll ensure she receives no preferential treatment whatsoever. After what she did to Miss Kaelin, it's the least she deserves." A rare moment of candor from my usually reserved housekeeper.
I waved a dismissive hand. "Just see that she completes her duties."
After Edith left, I remained by the window, watching darkness fall over the estate. Somewhere below, Freya was on her hands and knees, scrubbing the floor I walked on. The image should have satisfied me, should have felt like justice.
Instead, my wolf paced uneasily, drawn by a scent it refused to forget.