Freya's POV No one expected me to succeed. I had just leapt onto the back of the rune-marked warbeast-and this time, I stayed on. For a moment, the entire assembly froze. Their silence pressed in on me, heavy and suffocating, as I tightened my grip on the reins, leaned into the motion, and locked my legs around the beast's flanks. Every move was muscle memory. Not luck. Training. Precision. Control. This wasn't the Freya they thought they knew-the discarded mate, the fragile noblewoman. This was the soldier I had buried years ago. And yet, riding again under so many watchful eyes, I almost felt raw. Exposed. I could feel their stares burning into me. Caelum's most of all. Even without looking, I knew his expression-shock, disbelief… and something like betrayal. We had been bonded for three years, but he had never once glimpsed this part of me. Never cared to. A small, bitter twist pulled inside my chest. If he had asked-if he had wanted to know-I might have shown him. But he hadn't. And now it was far, far too late. Good. Let him wonder who I really was. Let him realize he never knew me at all. The beast bucked again, wild energy rippling under me. For a heartbeat I almost welcomed the fight, the violence-anything to drown out the ache twisting deeper than my bones. But I whispered, tugged the reins, pressed with my knees. Slowly, the fire in its hooves dimmed. The madness bled away. Its chest heaved, surrendering stride by stride. By the time I rode back into the circle, the air had shifted. The warbeast was mine. I slid down with a practiced swing, boots hitting earth. No triumph showed on my face-only calm. Cold. Distant. Inside, though, my pulse still beat hard, echoing with memories I'd tried to bury-endless drills, battlefield screams, the feeling of being needed. Of being seen. "Y–you…" Caelum's voice cracked through the stillness. "When did you learn to ride and tame?"I didn't even look at him. If I did, I wasn't sure my mask would hold. "Does it matter?" I said, flat and sharp. The silence that followed hurt more than it should have. Once, I might have wanted him to see me. To be proud. To claim me. But that hunger had withered too long ago. Now there was only the hollow where it used to be. Instead, my gaze found her-Aurora, curled in his arms like something fragile and precious. "Riding a wild beast doesn't impress me," I said evenly. "But if the only reason you ride is to catch a man's attention… then you and I have very different goals." The words left my mouth like steel. But beneath them, a shard of pain twisted. I wasn't speaking only to her. I handed the reins to a nearby beastmaster. Aurora's face went red, then pale. Good. At least she knew what it felt like to be exposed. "Freya!" Lana came running, her voice breathless, almost panicked. "Are you hurt? Gods-" "I'm fine." My lips curved in a faint smile, though it felt brittle. "You scared me half to death," she scolded, voice low but urgent. "Saving Alpha Silas was already reckless, but going back to tame that monster? What if you'd been thrown again?" "I don't fall easily." The words tasted sharper than I meant. My smile didn't reach my eyes. "And if I hadn't stepped in, someone else would've fallen. For good." Lana sighed, shoulders dropping. She knew that voice, the one I'd tried to bury. The soldier in me still spoke, even now. No matter how I tried to kill it, duty always won. Across the grounds, Vaughn's groveling voice reached my ears. The Bluemoon Alpha, almost shaking apart before Silas Whitmor. "Lord Silas, I beg forgiveness. I thought the beast was broken in. If anything had happened-" "It nearly did," Silas's reply rang out, cold as forged steel. "Had Miss Thorne not intervened, your pack would already be ash beneath the Whitmor name." A ripple of dread swept the crowd. I stood very still. Gratitude was the last thing I wanted. But when Silas turned and his eyes found mine, the weight of it pinned me in place. He came closer, every step slow, deliberate. The quiet storm of his presence pressed around me until I could scarcely breathe. "Miss Thorne," he said, voice low, unreadable, "do you realize-if you hadn't thrown yourself at me, my guards would have dropped that beast with silvershot in the next heartbeat?" Of course. A man like Silas Whitmor never walked unguarded. Reckless-that's what I had been. And yet, for once, I didn't regret it. "So you're saying I meddled?" I asked, my voice steady even as my heart hammered. "No." His eyes gleamed with something darker. "You saved me. And that demands repayment. The only question is-what do you want in return?" The crowd shifted, whispers clawing at me. Envy. Suspicion. Hunger. "I want nothing," I said without hesitation. And it was true-because what I truly wanted could never be bought, never be granted. Silas stepped closer, shadow spilling over me. "But what if I insist?" The weight of him pressed against me, daring me to falter. My throat ached, but I lifted my chin anyway. "Then build a school. Somewhere forgotten. A hope school." His brows rose. Not the answer he'd expected. A faint curve touched his lips. "Interesting choice." I didn't linger. I turned, walking away with Lana, each step harder than I let it seem. Behind me, Aurora's venomous voice carried faintly: She's pretending to be noble. If she really cared about Caelum, she'd have asked for SilverTech. The words stabbed deeper than I wanted to admit. Because once, maybe I would have. But not anymore. Not after everything. So let her rage. Let her burn herself hollow. I didn't look back.