Chapter 178

Chapter 178
Freya's POV

I stood in Moonshade Pack's council hall beside Ethan, staring down at the border patrol reports spread across the table. The numbers and markings blurred together as my attention repeatedly drifted toward the window. Through the glass, I could see the east wing where Theo and Lyra had been given quarters.

My fingers mechanically turned the report pages, but my thoughts were entirely in that small room hundreds of feet away. Was Theo awake? Was he crying? Would he like the morning sunlight in Silver Moon Manor?

Ethan's hand gently covered mine, pulling me back to reality. Through our soul bond, I felt his understanding and warmth. "Focus, Luna," he said softly, his voice carrying no reproach, only concern.

"Sorry," I whispered, forcing myself to look at the map on the table. "We were discussing the northeastern border patrols."

James cleared his throat, pointing to red markers on the map. "About the prisoners, Alpha, we need to decide how to proceed. The council is leaning toward traditional methods."

I'd almost forgotten about the Bloodclaw warriors captured in yesterday's battle. Traditional methods meant execution or enslavement—barbaric and cruel practices that made my stomach turn.

"I believe we should consider leniency," I said, earning frowns from several elders. "These warriors are someone's mates, someone's children." I thought of Theo, and my heart ached. "Like... like our Theo. If he were captured by enemies, how would we want him treated?"

The room fell silent. Ethan's hand tightened over mine.

"Luna makes a valid point," Ethan finally said. "Have Noah examine their injuries and ensure they're treated humanely. We'll determine their final disposition at the next meeting."

---

Night fell, and I stood on Silver Moon Manor's balcony, gazing up at the stars. Tonight's moon was a thin crescent hanging in the western sky, like an unfinished promise.

The day's duties had finally ended, but my heart was more restless than ever. Twenty-four hours ago, I believed my child was dead. Now he was under this very roof, alive and healthy, yet he didn't know me.

Ethan's scent approached, and his arm circled my shoulders. "You want to see him," he said, not a question.

I bit my lip and nodded. "Desperately," I admitted, "but I'm worried about disturbing them. Lyra looked exhausted, and Theo needs rest."

"And?" Ethan gently prompted, clearly sensing my hesitation through our bond.

"I'm afraid," I whispered, voicing my deepest fear. "Afraid he'll reject me again. Afraid he'll cry in my arms because I'm a stranger to him." My voice trembled. "I'm his mother, Ethan, but he doesn't know me."

Ethan turned me to face him. "Follow your heart, Freya. If you want to see him, go. But respect Lyra's position too—she's cared for Theo for months and risked everything to bring him here."

Ember stirred restlessly within me, yearning to be near our pup. I could feel her whimpering, desperate to be close to our child. "You're right," I said softly.

Silver Moon Manor lay quiet. I crept down the hallway, my heart pounding. Ember's senses guided me, following Theo's faint scent.

I paused at Lyra's door, took a deep breath, and knocked gently. No answer. I knocked again, still nothing. Biting my lip, I carefully pushed the door open, hinges releasing a faint creak.

The room was dim and quiet, with only moonlight streaming through the window onto the crib in the center. It was the one Ethan had custom-ordered when he learned I was pregnant, with carefully carved moons and wolves decorating the headboard. I remembered standing beside this crib, imagining the little life that would one day rest within it.

Now, my son was really there.

Each step I took felt like walking on thin ice, afraid to make the slightest sound. As I approached the crib, my heart raced to an almost painful degree. In the moonlight, Theo's little face looked peaceful and sweet, his tiny fists pressed against his cheeks, lips slightly parted. Seeing him, tears welled in my eyes.

I reached out with trembling fingers to touch Theo's cheek. A warm current flowed from my fingertips throughout my body, and my mark heated slightly. Ember released a satisfied low rumble inside me, recognizing our pup.

The connection was so powerful, so pure, I could barely breathe. He was my flesh, my heartbeat, my everything.

Suddenly, a cold wind hit my back. Something grabbed me hard. Claws—sharp and deadly—dug into my throat skin. One wrong move and they'd tear my flesh open. My breath stopped. My heart slammed against my ribs. I couldn't move. I couldn't scream. Death was just one slice away, pressing right against my racing pulse.

"Who?" The growl came from behind me, low and deadly. "Dares. Touch. My. Child." Each word dripped with animal rage, her breath hot against my ear.

I couldn't swallow. Couldn't breathe. The scent hit me—Lyra—but not the controlled woman I'd met before. This was pure wolf, pure mother, ready to kill.

"L-Lyra, it's me—Freya," I whispered, my voice thin and shaky. Blood pounded in my ears. "Please. I just—I needed to see him. My son."

Lyra released me but quickly positioned herself between me and the crib, like an impenetrable wall. Her eyes glinted with vigilance in the darkness, her posture clearly indicating she was ready to protect Theo at any cost.

I stumbled backward, nearly falling, and steadied myself against the wall. Feeling both embarrassed and hurt, I tried to smooth my collar where she had grabbed me.

"I'm sorry," Lyra said softly, the pressure from her claws easing slightly. Her stance remained protective, body still positioned between me and the crib. "My time in Bloodclaw has made it impossible to lower my guard."

I rubbed my throat where her claws had been. "I knocked," I explained, my voice still trembling. "Twice, actually. When there was no answer, I thought... I just wanted a glimpse of him."

Lyra's shoulders lowered slightly. "I stepped away to use the bathroom," she said, her eyes darting to the adjoining door. "I never leave him alone for more than a minute." The way she said it—like a confession—made it clear how seriously she took protecting my son.

A moment of awkward silence stretched between us—two women bound by love for the same child.