Chapter 107
Freya's POV
The silence after Thorne left with Kaelin was deafening. Lucy fled the dining room without a word, leaving Martha and me alone with the broken vase and the lingering scent of Kaelin's blood.
"Let me see your face," I said, moving to examine the mark Lucy's claws had left on Martha's cheek.
Martha waved me off, already heading for the kitchen. "It's nothing. I've had worse from chopping onions." But I could see the tremor in her hands as she wet a cloth to clean up the blood on the floor.
I took the cloth from her. "I'll do that. You should sit down."
She didn't argue, sinking into a chair with a heavy sigh. "This isn't good, Freya," she said quietly. "Not good at all."
I knelt to clean up the mess, carefully picking up the pieces of the vase with its moon-silver inlay. The silver made my fingers tingle unpleasantly, but I didn't have the extreme reaction Kaelin had shown.
"She was waiting for something like this," I said, the realization dawning on me. "She wanted a confrontation."
Martha nodded grimly. "And now she has the perfect opportunity to turn Alpha Thorne against both of us."
I sat back on my heels, the bloody cloth clutched in my hand. "He'll believe her, won't he?"
Martha's silence was answer enough. Of course he would believe Kaelin. She was his intended mate, the woman he had chosen to stand beside him. I was just a disgraced exile, a Riley—the family name that still carried the stain of betrayal in wolf society.
"I won't let you take the blame for this," I said firmly, standing up. "I'll tell Thorne that I provoked her."
Martha's eyes widened. "You can't do that, Freya. He might send you back to the Wilds."
The thought sent a chill through me, but I straightened my shoulders. "Better me than you. You have a place here, Martha. People who depend on you."
"And who do you have?" Martha asked softly. "If you go back to the Wilds, who will be there for you?"
The question hung in the air between us, its weight almost crushing. Who indeed? My family was gone, scattered or dead. I had no pack, no allies except for Martha herself and perhaps Terra from the Moon Howl. And Terra, kind as she was, couldn't protect me from the harsh reality of exile.
"We should clean this up before he returns," I said instead of answering. "And then... we wait."
We worked in silence, removing all evidence of the confrontation except for the missing vase, which couldn't be helped. When we were done, Martha made tea, and we sat at the kitchen table, neither of us speaking, both lost in our own thoughts.
Hours passed. The evening deepened into night. Still, Thorne didn't return.
"He's staying with her," Martha finally said, her voice flat. "At the hospital, most likely."
I nodded, unsurprised. Of course he would stay with Kaelin. Her injury, minor as it was, had clearly affected her severely. And she was his future mate, his responsibility.
"You should get some rest," I told Martha, standing to rinse our empty cups. "There's nothing more we can do tonight."
Martha looked at me, her eyes tired but determined. "Come stay in my room tonight," she said. "I don't want you to be alone if... when he returns."
The offer touched me deeply. "Thank you," I said, my throat tight. "But I think it's better if we don't give anyone more reason to suspect us of conspiring together."
Martha nodded reluctantly. "Then I'll come check on you later."
We parted ways in the main hall, Martha heading to the staff quarters on the ground floor, me climbing the stairs to my attic room. Each step felt heavier than the last, as if I were ascending to my own execution.
In my room, I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at nothing. My wolf paced restlessly within me, sensing the danger that loomed. I thought of running—simply slipping out into the night before Thorne returned. But where would I go? And how far would I get before the Alpha of Moon Bay tracked me down?
No, running wasn't an option. I had to face whatever came next. With that grim resolution, I lay down fully clothed on my bed and waited for morning, for judgment, for consequences.
I didn't expect to sleep, but exhaustion eventually claimed me. I dreamed of silver chains and golden wolf eyes, of being chased through endless woods by shadows that wore Kaelin's face.
I woke to a soft knock on my door. Dawn light filtered through my window, painting the room in pale gold. For a moment, I was disoriented, still half-caught in my dreams. Then reality rushed back, and with it, dread.
"Come in," I called, sitting up and smoothing my rumpled clothes.
It was Martha, her face drawn with worry. "He's back," she said simply. "And he's asking for both of us. In the kitchen. Now."
I nodded, taking a deep breath to steady myself. "How does he seem?"
Martha's expression was grim. "Cold. Controlled. Like an Alpha about to pass judgment."
I followed her down the stairs, my heart pounding in my chest. Whatever happened next, I was determined to protect Martha, even if it meant taking the full blame myself. She had risked everything to defend me; I wouldn't let her suffer for it.
The kitchen was silent when we entered, though every member of the household staff was present, lining the walls like spectators at an execution. Thorne stood at the head of the long wooden table, his face impassive, his eyes hard.
"Martha," he said, his voice flat. "Freya. Step forward."
We did as commanded, standing side by side before him. I could feel Martha trembling slightly beside me, though her face remained composed.
"I've heard Kaelin's account of what happened yesterday," Thorne said, his gaze moving between us. "Now I want to hear yours."
I opened my mouth to speak, ready to take the blame, but Martha beat me to it.
"It was my fault, Alpha," she said firmly. "I misinterpreted the situation between Miss Brooks and Freya. I interfered when I shouldn't have."
Thorne's eyes narrowed. "And the vase? The silver that injured Kaelin?"
"An accident," Martha said quickly. "Lucy pushed me, and I stumbled into Miss Brooks. The vase fell and broke."
Thorne turned his gaze to me. "Is this true, Freya?"
I hesitated, torn between protecting Martha and telling the truth. "Martha was defending me," I said carefully. "Kaelin was... upset about my continued presence at Grey Estate. She asked me to leave."
A flicker of something—surprise? anger?—crossed Thorne's face. "Go on."
"She grabbed my wrist," I continued, holding out my arm to show the faint bruise Kaelin's fingers had left. "Martha intervened. Lucy attacked Martha. In the scuffle, the vase was knocked over." I met his gaze steadily. "It was an accident, but the confrontation that led to it was not."
Thorne was silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he spoke, his voice cold and final.
"Martha, you've served Grey Estate faithfully. But this is the second time you've interfered on Freya's behalf, against my express wishes." He straightened, his Alpha presence filling the room. "You're dismissed from your position, effective immediately. You have until noon to pack your belongings and leave Grey Estate."
Gasps and murmurs swept through the watching staff. Martha paled but stood tall, her dignity intact. "Yes, Alpha," she said quietly.
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "You can't do this," I said, forgetting myself in my anger. "Martha was only trying to help. Kaelin was threatening me—"
"Silence," Thorne snapped, his eyes flashing gold. "You forget your place, Freya Riley."
"My place?" I laughed, a bitter sound that surprised even me. "And what place is that, exactly? Not a guest, clearly. Not a servant. What am I to you, Thorne Grey? A prisoner? A pet?"
The room went deadly quiet. Even my wolf cowered at my audacity, at challenging an Alpha so directly. But I was beyond caring. Thorne was destroying Martha's life, just as he had once destroyed mine.
"Everyone out," Thorne ordered, his voice dangerously soft. "Except Freya."
The staff didn't need to be told twice. They filed out quickly, casting sympathetic glances at Martha as she left. Only Edith lingered in the doorway, her disapproving gaze fixed on me.
"Freya," she said warningly, "mind how you speak to Alpha Thorne."
Then she too was gone, closing the door behind her, leaving me alone with an Alpha whose anger I could smell, sharp and dangerous, like a brewing storm.