Chapter 174
Chapter 174
Freya's POV
The investigator's car felt like a prison on wheels as I stared out the window, my phone clutched in my trembling hands.
Every few seconds, I checked for updates from the hospital about Luke's condition. Nothing. The silence from my phone was more terrifying than any bad news could be.
Alexander's warm hand covered mine, his thumb tracing gentle circles on my skin. "We'll get through this quickly," he murmured, his voice low but firm. "Whatever they want, we'll deal with it fast and then head straight for the Arctic."
I nodded. But my son was dying, and every minute spent away from him felt like a betrayal.
The Werewolf Court building loomed ahead, its imposing stone facade designed to intimidate.
The investigator led us down a sterile corridor toward the interrogation rooms. That's when I caught it – a scent that made my blood run cold.
'Tiffany.'
My steps faltered, and Alexander immediately sensed my distress. "What is it?"
"She's here," I whispered, my wolf senses on high alert. "Tiffany's here."
'Is this another one of her schemes? Another trap? What the hell is she planning now?'
Alexander moved closer, his presence a protective wall at my side. "Whatever this is, whatever she's planning, I'm right here with you."
His words steadied me just enough to keep walking.
---
The investigator pushed open the door to interrogation room three, and I froze.
Tiffany sat at the metal table, but not as I'd ever seen her before. Silver handcuffs bound her wrists to the chair. Her usually perfect hair hung limp and unwashed, her face gaunt with exhaustion and fear.
When she looked up and saw me, a complex mix of emotions flashed through her eyes – hatred, jealousy, desperation, and something that might have been regret.
'What the fuck is going on here?'
"Ms. Austen," the lead investigator announced formally, "we've called you here as a witness to verify crucial evidence in the case against Tiffany Austen."
My head spun. "Witness? I thought you were investigating me."
"Please, take a seat. We have video evidence that requires your confirmation."
I remained standing, Alexander's hand steady on my lower back.
The investigator gestured to a large screen mounted on the wall. "This footage was recovered from the hotel where the incident occurred. Please watch carefully and tell us if you can confirm its authenticity."
The footage showed something that made my blood freeze.
It wasn't me in that hotel room during the critical moments – it was Tiffany herself, her hands covered in blood, standing over three men's lifeless body.
She killed them.
"Is this footage accurate to your recollection of events?" the investigator asked.
I could barely find my voice. "Yes. It's completely accurate."
'But who found this video? Who's been helping me from the shadows?'
---
After the formal questioning, the investigator surprised me. "We're granting you a private moment to speak with the defendant before her sentencing."
Alexander started to object, but I held up my hand. "I need this."
He nodded reluctantly. "I'll be right outside the door."
Soon, it was just Tiffany and me in that sterile room, five years of hatred and betrayal hanging between us like a physical presence.
Tiffany's composure finally cracked. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked at me with pure, undiluted hate.
"Why?" she sobbed. "Why does everyone love you? Alexander, Dad, even your dead mother – she's still protecting you from beyond the grave!"
Her voice grew shriller. "You have this incredible design talent that everyone praises. What do I have? Nothing! You have three beautiful, perfect children, and I can't even find real love!"
I felt my silver light beginning to flicker in response to my rising anger, but I forced myself to stay calm.
"And you know what?" Tiffany's eyes gleamed with vicious satisfaction. "I heard about Luke being sick. This is karma, Freya. This is what you deserve!"
That did it. Silver light exploded around me, wild and uncontrolled, responding to a mother's fury.
"Enough," I roared.
"Let me make something crystal clear, Tiffany," I continued, stepping closer. "I never stole anything that belonged to you. Alexander was never yours – love isn't something you win through schemes and murder."
"You had choices. I gave you chances to change, to be better. You chose this path yourself."
I leaned down until we were eye to eye. "And if you ever – EVER – threaten my children again, what happens to you in prison will seem like a vacation compared to what I'll do to you."
Tiffany shrank back, trembling at the sheer power radiating from me.
I straightened and walked toward the door. "This is the last time we'll ever speak, Tiffany."
"You'll never be truly happy!" she screamed desperately as I reached for the handle. "The Faith family curse will follow you for the rest of your life!"
I didn't even turn around. For the first time in five years, the weight that had been crushing my chest lifted completely.
---
I walked out of that interrogation room to find Dad rushing down the hallway, looking older and more frail than I'd ever seen him. His face was etched with worry and something that looked like deep, bone-weary guilt.
"Freya," he called out, slightly out of breath.
I braced myself for accusations, for blame about Tiffany ending up in prison.
Instead, he pulled me into a fierce hug that smelled like the pine forests of our pack lands and the cologne he'd worn when I was little.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered into my hair. "These past five years... I'm so sorry I failed you."
Tears I didn't know I was holding back spilled down my cheeks. "Dad..."
"I was blind," he said, pulling back to cup my face in his weathered hands. "Tiffany, Victoria – they played me like a fool. But you... you're your mother's daughter. Strong, brave, and good to your core."
He squeezed my hands tightly. "Go. Go do what you need to do to save Luke. I'll handle everything here – the court, the pack, all of it."
"Thank you," I whispered, the last of my resentment toward him dissolving.
As he turned to enter the courtroom where Tiffany waited for her fate, I felt a chapter of my life finally closing.
---
Alexander was waiting for me in the hallway, his amber eyes searching my face for any sign of how I was handling everything.
"Ready?" he asked simply.
I looked at him – this Alpha who'd stood by me through revelation after revelation, who was willing to follow me into an Arctic wasteland to save our son – and felt something click into place.
"Ready," I said firmly.
We walked out of the Werewolf Court hand in hand, leaving behind the ghosts of our past. And ahead of us lay the unknown dangers of the Arctic and our only hope of saving Luke.
"We're going to make it," Alexander said, as if reading my thoughts.
I squeezed his hand tightly. "We have to. For Luke, for our family, for everything we've fought to build."