Third Person's POV Freya's lips curved into a cold, cutting smile. "So that's it?" she murmured with quiet derision. On the massive screen, Aurora trembled violently as the kidnapper's voice snarled from the shadows. The momentary flicker of guilt that had crossed the Bluemoon she-wolf's face when the recording had first played was proof enough. To wolves, instinct rarely lied. The recording was real. Aurora had let someone burn alive. But was the kidnapper truly intent on torching her body with the gasoline he had poured across her skin? Or did he have another purpose? The audience held its collective breath. Aurora writhed, her oil-soaked clothes clinging to her, her panicked screams spilling into the live feed. "No, please-don't do this! Tell me who sent you! I can pay you. I'm Aurora, daughter of the Bluemoon Beta. My fiancé is Caelum Grafton, Alpha of the Silverfangs. He is rich, powerful-his company, SilverTech Forgeworks, just went public! Whatever you want, he can give it to you. Just name your price!" The kidnapper laughed-a hollow, jagged sound that reeked of grief and madness. "Price? I don't want your money. You claim your colleague only screamed your name because he was burning, delirious, hallucinating. Very well. Then I'll burn you too. Let's see if you hallucinate." With that, he lifted a lighter. Snap! A flame bloomed, wicked and alive. Aurora shrieked again, body convulsing. The liquid soaking her clothes caught the light, a field of kindling ready to explode into inferno with the barest spark. Memories flashed across her wide eyes: the co-pilot she had abandoned, writhing, engulfed, screaming her name until his throat tore apart. She had watched him burn alive. The smell of charred flesh, the sound of cracking bones-they surged back like a tide. Her terror reached a breaking point. "What's wrong?" the kidnapper sneered. "Even a murderer can still fear fire?"Aurora shook her head violently, tears spilling. "I… I'm not a killer. It wasn't me-" "Not you?" The lighter inched closer, its heat brushing her skin. The man's voice grew darker, dripping with rage. "You dare say you weren't there? That you didn't stand by his side as he screamed for help? You let him burn. You left him to die in agony." "No! No, it wasn't like that!" Aurora broke, voice cracking. "The flames-they were too strong. Even if I had grabbed the extinguisher, it would've been useless. I couldn't-" The studio went utterly silent. Every wolf froze, hearing the confession for what it was. Aurora realized it too late; panic tightened her throat. A low, terrible laugh filled the broadcast. "So it's true. You were right there. You could have saved him, and you chose not to. You stood still and watched him burn alive. Why, Aurora? Why?" The kidnapper's accusations struck like claws. Aurora crumbled, sobbing, her pleas spilling like blood. "I was scared! The fire was everywhere-I couldn't go near him. I didn't mean to, I just… I couldn't. Please, forgive me! Please don't kill me!" The live-stream chat detonated. "Spirits damn her-she let her own comrade burn?" "She admitted it herself! She had an extinguisher within reach!" "Liar. She built her reputation as a hero, but she's a coward! She's no savior-she's a fraud." "She watched him die and then accepted medals for it? Disgusting!" Unseen in the studio, thousands of wolves across the packs spat curses at the screen. In the front row, Caelum felt the ground crumble beneath his feet. His wolf thrashed inside him, howling denial. The woman he had worshiped-the pilot he had painted in his mind as a fearless savior, the she-wolf who once pulled him from drowning waters with iron will-was unraveling before his eyes. She was not a hero. She was a coward who had chosen self-preservation while her comrade burned to ash. "No," Caelum whispered hoarsely, his face drained of color. "No, this isn't true. Aurora wouldn't…" But her desperate pleas on the screen left no room for doubt. Every word was a dagger, carving through the trust he had built, through the devotion he had bled for her. The pack hall was silent, save for Aurora's sobbing and the kidnapper's laughter. Then, with sudden finality, the feed cut to black.Not system interference. The kidnapper had ended it himself. Freya narrowed her eyes. Something in her gut twisted-not sympathy, not pity, but a sharp awareness of the kidnapper's intent. If his goal had been Aurora's death, he would have struck already. No, he wanted the truth laid bare, stripped before every eye in the Capital. Aurora's survival was not the point. Her destruction in the court of public opinion was. Freya lowered her gaze to the WolfComm in her hand, scrolling through the fragments of intelligence she had gathered in the last twenty-four hours. Her instincts aligned, her wolf bristling with clarity. The identity of the kidnapper was no longer a mystery. The man wasn't driven by coin or random vengeance. He was bound to the Iron Fang Recon Unit, to the ghost of the one Aurora had abandoned. Her lips tightened. So it was revenge-pure, unrelenting, the kind that fire alone could not quench. Around her, the Stormveil and Ironclad wolves muttered, their emotions sharp with anger and disbelief. Yet Freya stood still, her posture unyielding. While others drowned in outrage, she was already calculating the storm that would follow. Aurora had fallen from her pedestal. The packs had seen her true face. And Caelum Grafton's desperate defense of his fiancée had just shattered in front of them all.