Third Person's POV Caelum sat slumped in the leather armchair of his penthouse study, the muted glow of Deepmoor City outside casting long shadows across the room. The stack of glossy profiles on the mahogany table felt like knives pressing against his chest. Every time he glanced at them, the frustration gnawed deeper. Eleanor, his mother, hovered beside him, a picture of forced optimism. "Caelum, look at these women I picked for you. Each one of them is fine, strong, respectable. Imagine bringing one back to our family estate-you'll have face, prestige. Something you clearly need." Giselle, his younger sister, perched delicately on the edge of the sofa, followed suit. "Brother, Mother spent a fortune getting these. You can't just ignore her efforts." Caelum's amber eyes narrowed into a predatory glare. The wolf within him, silent and restrained for years, prowled under his skin. The words of his mother and sister were hollow, irritating, meaningless compared to the chaos in his life. "Investment? You spent money on matchmaking instead of saving my company? Do you even realize the cash flow is tight? My company's hanging by a thread, and you're buying profiles?" Eleanor recoiled slightly, but Giselle only tilted her chin, still convinced she was right. "Brother, just maybe… seeing new faces might lift your mood?" Caelum slammed a fist onto the table, rattling the profiles to the floor. Papers fluttered like wounded birds, scattering across the polished wood. "Mood? Face? Do you really think I care about face right now?" His voice was low, dangerous, a growl resonating from deep within. "You forced me to end things with Freya Thorne for face! That's what you call preserving dignity?" Eleanor's lips tightened, and for a brief moment, her confidence faltered. "I… I was just thinking of what's practical, what's… appropriate. Freya… she was a childless orphan, nothing to bring into the family. What else could I have expected?" Caelum's growl rumbled from his chest, wolf instincts flaring with fury. "Nothing to bring? Her parents died serving the country-heroes, every one! And she stood by me when I had nothing. She believed in me, in my vision, in what we were building together. You call that ‘nothing to bring'?" His fists clenched, nails digging into his palms as if restraining the wolf that threatened to break free. Eleanor opened her mouth, stammering, "But… that was different-" "Different?" Caelum barked, teeth bared in frustration. "Different because she didn't require a dowry? Because our family had nothing to offer? You were glad to get a free bride, weren't you?" His voice was cold, biting. The room seemed to contract under the weight of his anger, shadows stretching across the walls like the claws of some unseen predator. Giselle's face paled as she flinched, startled by the intensity of her brother's wolfish outburst. "Brother, you can't speak to Mother like that-" "Don't!" Caelum's glare cut her off. His wolf senses picked up every subtle movement in the room-the nervous glance of his mother, the hesitant breathing of his sister, the faint scent of fear mixed with perfume. "I speak the truth. Freya Thorne was capable, brilliant, far beyond anything you two could appreciate. She graduated top of her class at Halston Combat Academy, excelled in drone warfare and tactical engineering, and yet you replaced her with Giselle? Someone who couldn't even maintain half-completed projects without ruining them?" Eleanor's face flushed with embarrassment, but she still tried to defend herself. "I just… I wanted to find someone more… capable, someone who could-" "Capable?" Caelum barked again, voice resonant with Alpha authority, wolf fire sparking in his amber eyes. "She was capable! She built everything with me, she pushed through when I had no one else, and what do you do? You throw her away for face, for reputation, for appearances!" His tail-the metaphorical one within his psyche, his wolf's instincts-lashed furiously, a storm barely contained. Giselle tried to interject, trembling, "Brother, don't be so harsh… I'm just trying to-" "Trying to what? Ruin the company? Ruin me?" Caelum rose from the armchair, towering over them, his presence like a wolf in full alert, radiating power and rage. The room seemed to shrink under him. "Do you understand now? If Freya hadn't left me, if I hadn't been forced into the Lunar Severance Phase with her, my company would be fine! My life would be fine! And I wouldn't be scrambling like this!" Eleanor paled, finally silenced, and Giselle's mouth fell open. Caelum's wolf had tasted betrayal, and it prowled through him, sharp and hungry. He could smell their panic, their inability to grasp the scale of their mistakes. Giselle finally managed to speak, weakly. "Brother… are you blaming us? You're saying… you resent Mother and me?" "No," Caelum said, voice low, almost a growl. "I resent myself for letting all this happen. I resent myself for letting Freya be discarded while I chased illusions. While I deferred to your judgment and my own pride. She deserves better than all of you, better than me even. And yet I let it happen." His chest heaved, amber eyes blazing like molten gold. "And all because of face… because of appearances… because of a family too blind to see what was right before them." The room fell silent, except for the faint hum of the city below. Even the Alpha wolf within him seemed to slow, sniffing the air, assessing the danger, but still restless. Caelum's gaze softened slightly-not toward them, but inward, toward the memory of Freya Thorne, loyal, capable, and brilliant, the wolf who had once shared his vision, shared his dreams, and endured his weaknesses. Giselle swallowed hard, tears threatening. "Brother… if you truly cared for Freya… why did you… hide it? Why not let everyone know you were married?"