Third Person's POV Giselle's words struck Caelum like an invisible whip, leaving him both flustered and cornered. At first, he had only wanted to keep Aurora's knowledge of his marriage from surfacing. It wasn't that long ago that he had been rejected by her; marrying another woman so soon after that would make him seem careless with love, too casual, too indifferent. Yet, as SilverTech Forgeworks expanded, as the empire of his influence grew, the secrecy of his marriage became routine. To him, it seemed that as long as he didn't wear the ring, he remained unbound, free from any obligations or scrutiny. "And, brother," Giselle pressed, her voice sharp with accusation, "it's not just Mother's pride you're protecting. You care about your own face, don't you? Isn't that why you refused to announce that Freya is your wife? Because you thought she couldn't walk proudly by your side in public? And now, all your resentment over this divorce… you're dumping it onto Mother and me?" Her words were a slap Caelum couldn't see but felt burning across his face, leaving him utterly speechless. Silence stretched long in the room, thick with guilt and shame. Finally, he muttered, barely audible, "Yes… it's all me. It's me who failed Freya… it's me who wronged her." "What are you talking about, brother?" Giselle's voice trembled with confusion. Eleanor, their mother, interjected sharply, her tone filled with the habitual disdain she reserved for Freya. "Do not tell me… Aurora has come back to demand reconciliation? That marriage must not be restored! I will not allow that curse to step into the Grafton family again!" "Mother!" Caelum's fury broke through, his gaze piercing. "Do not speak another word against Freya in my presence! That so-called curse of yours… saved my life! If she had not intervened back then, I would have drowned in the River without a trace!" He turned abruptly, leaving both mother and sister behind, and climbed the staircase to his private chambers. The air inside the room was cold and desolate, reflecting the emptiness he felt. Caelum entered the bathroom, splashing his face with icy water, staring at the reflection of the man he had become. Once confident, unyielding, the Alpha of SilverTech Forgeworks now looked ravaged, worn down by stress, guilt, and the chaos that had enveloped his life. SilverTech Forgeworks teetered on the brink of collapse. And as if fate were mocking him, Aurora-the Beta daughter of Bluemoon Pack-was carrying his child. Why had this happened now, of all times? One thing was certain: this child, born of a union he hadn't wanted, couldn't be allowed to remain. - Meanwhile, Silas returned Freya to her apartment. Tonight, the wolf had clearly had more than her usual share of drinks. Her steps were unsteady, and her body leaned heavily against his as they approached the building. Silas's chest tightened at the sight. Freya, usually fierce and independent, vulnerable in this state, seemed to rely solely on him. He was, at this moment, her singular anchor. "I'll carry you upstairs," Silas offered gently. "No… I can manage," she slurred, attempting to maintain some dignity despite the alcohol's softening grip. Her cheeks flushed like early dawn, lending her an unexpected innocence that made Silas's heart ache. With a quiet chuckle, he scooped her into his arms anyway, her slight weight pressing against him, warm and familiar. "I want to, Freya. Consider it my choice," he murmured. She smiled against him, no longer resisting, and let him carry her to her room. Once inside, he gently placed her on the bed. "I'll get something to help you sober up." "I don't need it," she said abruptly, grabbing his wrist before he could move. Then, in a swift, deliberate motion, she pushed him onto the mattress, her intent clear. "Freya?" Silas's brow rose, startled. "Do you even know what you're doing?" "Of course I do," she said, her words deliberate, her lips brushing his in a teasing, intoxicating press. Her hands moved deftly, loosening the tie around his neck, unbuttoning his shirt with the ease of someone entirely confident in her desire. His chest revealed itself piece by piece under her touch. The subtle chill of his skin contrasted with the warmth from her intoxicated body, a heady combination that sent shivers down both their spines. A low, primal growl built within Silas. Desire-raw and insistent-coursed through him, demanding acknowledgment. "I want to…" he began, attempting to rise, only to be gently but firmly pushed back. "Shh… today, I lead," Freya murmured, eyes glinting with both playfulness and command. "You lead?" Silas's surprise was evident. "Yes," she replied, a mischievous tilt in her smile. "Before, you took control, and… it almost went too far. I prefer this way. Tonight, I dictate the rules." He let out a soft laugh, resigned but intrigued. "Very well. What should I do?" "Just lie there," she instructed, her fingers finding his tie once more. She bound his wrists together, overlapping them delicately. "You really think a single tie can hold me?" he teased, though the growl in his voice betrayed the rising anticipation. "Try and see for yourself," she said with a smirk, adding a playful flourish-a butterfly knot. "Lana says that tying a man down in bed… has a certain charm. I wanted to experience it too."Silas's eyes darkened with desire, a wild gleam catching in the depths. When she sobered, would she even remember this bold declaration? And what nonsense had Lana Rook been whispering in her ear to inspire this audacity? "You promise me something?" Silas's voice softened, though the heat in her gaze remained untamed. "The only man you allow on this bed, bound or free, is me." Freya met his eyes, a low, feral smile playing on his lips. In that instant, in the quiet apartment filled with tension and unspoken truths, it was clear that neither would yield. The night belonged entirely to her, the wolf and the woman intertwined in a dance as old as their kind, desire sharpening the edges of their connection, making every touch, every heartbeat, feel infinite.