Chapter 60 The Heir’s Wrath
"Mom!"
The sound didn't reach Freda so much as drag her out. She had sunk too far, past pain, past thought, drifting somewhere quiet where nothing pulled at her anymore. No weight. No fear. Nothing worth fighting for.
Then the scream hit, violent and raw, carrying a force that had no business living in a child's voice.
Her chest jerked. Air slammed back into her lungs in a sharp, burning gasp. Pain followed at once, crashing through her body and dragging her fully back into it.
Her eyes snapped open and the ravine returned in pieces. Light. Dust. Movement. The metallic taste of blood thick on her tongue. The rough scrape of dirt against her palms.
And Liam.
She felt him before she saw him, a fierce, desperate pull that held her in place like an anchor.
"Mom!"
Closer now. Real.
Freda forced her arm beneath her and pushed up. Her muscles shook violently under the strain. Her ribs screamed. Her side burned. Her shoulder threatened to fold. She pushed through all of it, refusing to stay down.
Across from her, Silas was already moving.
His claws were out. His focus was locked on her as though she had never fallen at all. There was no hesitation in him, no doubt. He closed the distance with steady certainty, his arm lifting for the strike that would finish it.
Freda didn't think. She moved.
She rolled just as he came down, his strike cutting through empty air where her throat had been.
Her shoulder slammed into the dirt as she turned, pain shooting through her, but she used the momentum to force herself upright before he could follow through.
The world tilted for a second and threatened to slip away, but she forced it back. Blood ran warm along her side. Her breath came uneven and tight. She stayed on her feet.
Then the bond opened.
It didn't rush in or overwhelm her. It settled, firm and steady, like a hand pressing against her back.
Lucian.
His presence pushed through the bond in a controlled, constant current. It didn't erase the pain. It held her together where her body was trying to come apart.
Silas felt it. Something calculating moved behind his eyes.
Behind her, something broke.
"Let go!"
Liam's voice tore through the clearing again, but this time it carried weight. Real weight. The kind that pressed against the air itself. The warriors holding him faltered, their grips tightening before failing altogether.
"Let go!"
His head snapped up. His eyes burned gold. Not a flicker. Not a glow. A blazing intensity that had no right being in a child's face.
The change was immediate.
Power surged out of him in a violent wave. It slammed into the clearing with crushing force. Wolves dropped to their knees as if the ground had been ripped from under them, their bodies bending under pressure they could not resist.
It was not dominance as they knew it. It was something older and heavier, something that demanded submission without question or room for refusal.
Even Silas dropped. His knee struck the dirt. He forced himself to brace, his jaw tight as he fought against it.
The warriors staggered back and released Liam completely.
No one moved. The weight hung in the air, thick and suffocating, before it slowly eased and left stunned silence behind.
Freda steadied herself, her chest rising and falling unevenly. Her gaze found Liam across the clearing, and something tightened in her chest at the sight of him.
That power was his.
And it was far from small.
Silas was still recovering, his balance not fully returned, his focus cracked open for just a moment.
It was enough.
Freda moved.
She closed the distance fast, her movements precise despite the pain. Silas reacted at once, turning into her as his arm came up to block. She shifted at the last second, slipping inside his reach.
Her hand caught his wrist and twisted sharply as she stepped into him. When he tried to pull free, she followed the motion instead of fighting it, turning his own strength against him.
Her shoulder drove hard into his center and broke his balance.
She did not hesitate. Her foot hooked behind his leg. Her grip tightened. She dropped her weight and dragged him down with her.
Silas hit the ground hard, dust kicking up around them. He tried to twist free.
Freda held him there.
Her grip adjusted, locking his arm across his body as she shifted over him, her knee pressing into his side to pin him.
He fought back, his strength pushing against hers. She moved with him, tightening her hold, using his resistance to trap him further.
Then she struck.
Her teeth closed at his throat.
Everything stilled.
Silas froze. Not from fear. From understanding. One move was all it would take.
The clearing went silent.
"Submit," Freda said, her voice low and steady.
Silas did not answer right away. His breathing slowed. His gaze moved briefly to the wolves around them before returning to her.
She did not loosen her hold.
"Submit," she said again, shifting the pressure at his throat just enough to make the threat impossible to miss.
His jaw tightened. Resistance moved through him for a moment.
Then he exhaled.
"I submit."
The words settled heavily between them. Not freely given. Forced.
Freda held him a second longer.
"By blood," she said. "And by the moon."
Silas's expression hardened, but he did not fight it.
"By blood," he replied. "And by the moon."
"You and your pack will not approach my son," Freda continued. "You will not approach Lucian. You will not step into Silverpine territory again."
Silas held her gaze. Tension stretched between them before he spoke.
"I swear it."
The oath settled into place, binding and final.
Freda felt it take hold before she released him and pushed herself to her feet.
Silas remained on the ground for a moment before rising slowly. He did not look at her again as he stepped back, putting distance between them.
Silence spread across the ravine, heavy with the weight of what had just shifted.
Freda turned toward Liam.
He stood at the edge of the clearing, his body tense, power still flickering unevenly around him like heat off summer ground.
"Liam," she said, softer now.
He moved toward her immediately, too quickly, the energy around him shifting sharply with the motion.
"Stay there," she said firmly.
He stopped. It clearly cost him something to hold himself in place.
Freda walked toward him. Each step pulled at the wound in her side, the pain deepening with every movement. She did not slow.
When she reached him, she lifted her hand and rested it gently against his cheek.
He stilled beneath her touch.
The gold in his eyes flickered, then slowly began to fade as the tension in the air eased with it.
"You're okay," she said softly.
Liam did not answer. He leaned into her hand and grounded himself in the contact, his breathing uneven.
For a moment, everything seemed to settle.
Then the world tilted.
It came without warning. Her balance slipped, and her knee hit the ground hard.
"Mom…"
"I'm fine," she said quickly, but the words came out too fast and too thin to mean anything.
She pressed her hand against her side. When she pulled it away, it was slick with blood.
Too much.
Liam's grip tightened on her shoulders, panic breaking through his control.
She tried to stand, but her arm gave out beneath her.
The ground shifted again. Her vision dimmed at the edges. Sound began to pull back.
Liam's face stayed in front of her, sharp with fear.
"Mom, no…"
Freda drew in a breath that did not quite fill her lungs. Her chest tightened, something deeper than the injury pulling at her, something wrong in a way she could not name.
For a brief second, her vision flickered. The air around Liam seemed to warp, bending faintly toward him as though drawn by something unseen.
Her breath caught.
Then everything tilted sideways, and she fell.