Third Person's POV Bang! Bang! Bang! The gunshots tore through the silence of the Whitmore estate's hall, echoing like thunder trapped within stone walls. Each bullet grazed past Jocelyn Thorne's flesh-scraping her cheek, tearing into her arm, carving across her thigh. Her screams split the air, raw and jagged. She collapsed, trembling, sprawling helplessly on the cold floor. Her skin drained of color, eyes rolling with terror. Silas stood over her, expression carved from ice. He only lowered his weapon when the last round clicked empty, the acrid scent of spent gunpowder hanging in the air like death itself. "Take her to the city watch," Silas ordered, his voice flat, deadly calm. "Let her rot in a cell for the rest of her life. And while she's there, make sure she never forgets what hell tastes like." "Yes, Alpha," his enforcers responded, moving to drag Jocelyn away. "You… you're insane!" Jocelyn screamed, her voice breaking into a high, desperate pitch. Her eyes were wide with hatred and fear as she was hauled upright. "Silas, you're a madman!" Her words cracked into hysterical laughter, echoing sharp against the walls. "Do you truly think Freya will ever love you again? No-no one will! The only wolf who could ever accept you as you are is me. Only me! Hahaha-" Her rant was cut short when a guard shoved a cloth roughly into her mouth, muffling the madness. She kicked and writhed, but her protests were dragged into silence as they hauled her into the shadows beyond the hall. Silas didn't move. His eyes dropped, unblinking, to the jade-and-ironwood prayer beads strung tightly around his wrist. Insane. That was what Jocelyn had called him. But wasn't he already walking in hell? Across the city, in the quiet sanctuary of an apartment lit only by a single desk lamp, Freya sat opposite Lana. "You're leaving for D-Country?" Lana's voice faltered with surprise. Freya nodded. Her amber eyes, so like her father Arthur's, were steady though shadowed with determination. "Yes. I was waiting for the Iron Fang Recon Unit to verify the reports. We needed confirmation about what happened during the border inferno. But now that surveillance footage has surfaced from D-Country, showing Eric after the fire… I have no choice. He might be alive."Her voice cracked faintly on that last word, but she pressed on. "If he survived the fire, he must have been injured, maybe disoriented. That's the only reason he hasn't made contact. Otherwise-" She broke off, her hand curling tight around the edge of the table. The silence left the unspoken truth dangling in the air. Otherwise, Eric Thorne could already be dead. Her wolf snarled in denial deep in her chest. No. He's alive. He has to be. "I have to find him," Freya finished. Lana frowned, biting her lip. "But D-Country is chaos right now. If you go alone, you could walk straight into danger." Freya exhaled a steadying breath. "This isn't my first time. During my years with the Iron Fang Recon Unit, I was deployed to D-Country more than once. I know how to survive there. And I won't go unprepared. I might be retired now, but I haven't forgotten who I am. If trouble comes, I can still protect myself." Lana shook her head, unease flickering in her eyes. "Even the strongest wolf can be outnumbered. You've been out for years, Freya. And this time you won't have a unit backing you. Let me come with you." Freya gave a small, grim smile. "No. I don't know how long this mission will take. You have your company here, your life. I won't drag you into danger just to ease my conscience." Lana's protest faltered. She knew Freya was right. Her wolf bristled with guilt at the thought of becoming a liability. Freya softened her tone. "Don't worry. I'll contact the embassy once I arrive. And the Iron Fang Recon Unit still has ties in the region. If I need backup, they'll make sure I get it." Lana let out a long breath. "Fine. But promise me one thing-call me every single day. Just once, so I know you're alive." "I promise," Freya said firmly. "When do you leave?" "Two weeks," Freya replied. "I need to settle things here first-get my visa, arrange travel, wrap up work." Lana hesitated, then asked quietly, "Does Kade know?" "No," Freya admitted."Then tomorrow night-" Lana's voice warmed a fraction. "Let's bring him out for a drink. He'll want to see you before you go. And you deserve one last night of peace before diving into the storm again." Tomorrow. The word struck a chord in Freya's chest. Her eyes flickered with a strange light. Tomorrow was Silas's birthday. For weeks she had considered asking for leave, had even pictured spending the day with him-maybe one last fragile attempt at normalcy between them. But now… now there was no reason. She forced a bitter smile, trying to laugh at the ache twisting in her chest. "Fine. Tomorrow we'll drink." It was time. Time to put Silas Whitmor behind her, to sever the bond that had chained her heart too long. If she didn't, she would never be free to find her brother-or herself. Silas, in his silent hall, stared at the prayer beads glinting on his wrist. His wolf whispered of darkness and ruin. He told himself he didn't fear hell. But the truth was harsher- Hell was already here. And without Freya, there would be no escape from it.