Chapter 108
Freya’s POV
Thorne moved closer, each step deliberate. I held my ground, though every instinct screamed at me to back away, to show submission.
"You question my decision?" he asked, his voice deceptively calm.
"Yes," I said, lifting my chin. "Martha doesn't deserve this. She was protecting me from Kaelin's threats."
"And what threats were those, exactly?"
"She demanded I leave Grey Estate within a week. She threatened to take back the money you gave me if I didn't comply." I met his gaze squarely. "She made it very clear that she doesn't want me here when she moves in after your binding ceremony."
Something flickered in Thorne's eyes—surprise, perhaps, or doubt. But it was quickly replaced by cold certainty.
"Martha interfered in affairs that don't concern her," he said flatly. "This is not the first time. She helped you leave the estate to meet Jasper Stone, against my explicit orders. Her dismissal is justified."
"And what about Kaelin?" I demanded. "Will there be consequences for her actions as well?"
Thorne's jaw tightened. "Kaelin is recovering from a moon-silver injury. She's in no condition to be questioned or judged."
"How convenient," I muttered, unable to stop myself.
Thorne's hand shot out, gripping my chin, forcing me to look up at him. "You will show respect," he growled, his eyes burning gold. "Kaelin will be my mate. The Alpha female of this pack."
I jerked away from his touch. "And Martha will be homeless and jobless because of it," I said bitterly. "No one in Moon Bay will hire her after being dismissed from Grey Estate. You know that."
"That's not my concern," Thorne said coldly. "My priority is the safety and well-being of my intended mate."
"Then let me leave with Martha," I pleaded, changing tactics. "You've made it clear you don't want me here. Kaelin certainly doesn't. Let us both go."
Thorne's expression hardened. "No."
The blunt refusal startled me. "Why not? There's nothing keeping me here except your arbitrary command."
"Martha goes alone," Thorne said, turning away from me. "You stay."
"Why?" I demanded, following him. "Give me one good reason why I should stay in a house where I'm hated, where your future mate is plotting against me—"
Thorne whirled to face me, his movement so sudden that I stumbled back. "Because I say so," he growled. "Because I am the Alpha, and you are in my territory, under my authority." His eyes narrowed. "And because without Martha to help you, without Terra Thompson or any other allies, you have no way to leave. No one to turn to."
"You're cutting off my support," I whispered, understanding dawning. "Isolating me."
A cold smile curved Thorne's lips. "Call it what you want. But understand this, Freya Riley: you are staying at Grey Estate, and that is final."
He strode to the door, pausing with his hand on the knob. "You have one hour to say your goodbyes to Martha. After that, I expect you to return to your duties. And if you cause any more trouble..." He let the threat hang unfinished in the air between us.
When he was gone, I sank into a chair, trembling with rage and helplessness. Thorne wasn't keeping me here out of kindness or protection. He was keeping me prisoner, ensuring I had no allies, no support, no way to escape.
---
I found Martha in her small room off the kitchen, carefully folding her few possessions into a worn leather suitcase. The sight broke my heart—everything she owned fitting into one bag after years of loyal service.
"Martha," I said softly, standing in the doorway.
She looked up, her eyes red-rimmed but dry. "Freya." She attempted a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Come in, dear. I was just finishing up."
I crossed the room and wrapped my arms around her sturdy frame. She stiffened momentarily, then melted into the embrace, her hands patting my back gently.
"This is my fault," I whispered. "I'm so sorry."
Martha pulled back, holding me at arm's length. "None of that," she said firmly. "I made my choices, and I'd make them again." Her eyes softened. "The Rileys were always good to me. Your mother treated me like family, not staff. I couldn't stand by and watch her daughter be mistreated."
The mention of my mother made my throat tighten. "Do you know what happened to them? My family?"
Martha shook her head sadly. "Only rumors. Nothing certain." She squeezed my hands. "But if anyone can find them, it's you. You have their strength."
I helped her finish packing, listening as she gave me advice about surviving at Grey Estate without her. Which staff members I could trust (few), which ones to avoid (many), where the spare blankets were kept for cold nights.
All too soon, it was time for her to leave. Mark appeared in the doorway, his expression carefully neutral.
"It's time, Martha," he said quietly. "The car is waiting."
I moved to follow them through the main hall, but Mark held up a hand. "Alpha's orders. You're to remain inside."
My wolf bristled at the command, but I knew defying Thorne now would only make things worse for Martha. Instead, I embraced her one last time.
"I'll find a way to contact you," I promised in a whisper.
Martha nodded against my shoulder. "Be careful, Freya. Remember what I taught you about playing the long game." She pressed something small and cold into my palm—a key. "For the service entrance," she murmured. "Just in case."
Then she was gone, walking out the door with her head held high, her dignity intact despite everything. Mark followed close behind, shooting me a warning glance over his shoulder.
I stood in the hallway, watching through the window as Martha climbed into the waiting car. No one came to see her off except me, despite her years of service. The injustice of it made my wolf howl in silent rage.
When the car disappeared down the long driveway, I turned and made my way back up to my attic room. The stairs seemed steeper than usual, each step an effort. The house felt different now—colder, more hostile. Without Martha, I truly had no allies here.
I closed my door and leaned against it, sliding down until I sat on the floor, Martha's key clutched in my palm. In the Forgotten Wilds, I had been surrounded by enemies, fighting daily for survival. But even there, I'd found connections—other exiles who shared food, information, protection.
Here, in this beautiful mansion filled with people, I was truly alone. The irony wasn't lost on me. In the midst of civilization, I felt more isolated than I ever had in the wilderness.
I curled in on myself, allowing the tears I'd held back for Martha's sake to finally fall. My wolf whimpered inside me, sensing the bleakness of our situation.
No allies. No escape. No hope.