Freya's POV I stared at him, my chest tightening when he said it so calmly, so matter-of-factly- "Then I'll stay by your side. And if anyone tries to stand in the way, I'll deal with them." His voice was smooth, unhurried. But his eyes burned with that quiet madness I had almost managed to forget. Silas Whitmor. Alpha of the Ironclad Coalition. The man the Capital whispered about in low voices-the wolf you did not provoke, because once he marked you as his, there was no undoing it. For a moment, I pressed my lips together, tasting iron from where I had bitten down too hard. The months I had spent with him had nearly made me forget the truth: beneath the polished restraint, he was lethal, untouchable. "Change the place," I said softly. A flicker of satisfaction lit his eyes. "Then we'll go back to the apartment. I've already prepared everything. All that's missing is you." My brows furrowed. "Apartment?" He tilted his head, almost mockingly. "What, unwilling? Just moments ago you promised to spend the night with me." "…No," I breathed. "Let's go." I walked out of the bar first, the low thrum of music and the scent of alcohol clinging to my clothes. I didn't look back, but I could hear his footsteps behind me-steady, confident, inevitable. We drove in silence, the tension between us coiled tight enough to snap. When the car stopped in front of the familiar building, my heart gave a strange lurch. The apartment. The place we had once shared a life. The door opened with a soft click, and when I stepped inside, my breath caught in my throat. He had decorated it. Colorful balloons floated against the ceiling, ribbons draped across the walls. Birthday banners and bright streamers wound through the room like some cruel parody of celebration. And hanging from those ribbons…Photos. Dozens of them. Me and him. Smiling. Laughing. Frozen moments from a life I no longer wanted. In those pictures, my eyes were bright, my smile unguarded. I had once believed in us. I had once believed he could give me forever. A sharp ache carved its way into my chest. That girl in the photographs hadn't imagined this ending. Before I could school my expression, strong arms slipped around me from behind, his chest pressing into my back. "Look," Silas murmured, his voice low, almost tender. "We were happy. You can't deny that. Freya, no one will ever love you the way I do. Come back to me." The scent of him-dark musk and storm-ash-wrapped around me, intoxicating and suffocating all at once. I forced myself to breathe evenly. "We've already broken up. If you don't let go right now, I'll leave. The promise I made-to spend your birthday with you-will be over before it begins." Silas stilled, and for the first time that night, something dimmed in his eyes. Slowly, reluctantly, he loosened his hold. His lips curved, but the smile was bitter. "I always thought I was ruthless. Turns out you're the crueler one." I stepped away from him, putting distance between us as my heart pounded. Meeting his gaze, I made my voice steady. "What we had is finished. I came tonight only because I once promised you I'd celebrate your birthday with you. That's all." Just that. A final act of closure. Once, I had pitied him. He had confessed he never celebrated birthdays, not even once. And I… I couldn't imagine such loneliness. Every year, even if my family couldn't all be together, there had been gifts, messages, warmth. Love. But Silas Whitmor, for all his power, for all his dominance, had grown up with none of it. So I'd promised myself I would change that. And now… now I was here to give him one last memory before walking away for good. "Then at least light the candles with me," he said, moving to the table. A cake sat waiting there, dark chocolate with pale frosting. He pulled out slender candles, placing them carefully, almost reverently, before striking a lighter. Flame flickered to life, golden light dancing against his sharp features. For a moment, his eyes softened. He closed them, clasped his hands, and bowed his head in silence. A wish. A prayer. When he opened his eyes again, he blew out the flames, smoke curling in the air. His gaze snapped back to me. "Don't you want to know what I wished for?" "No matter what you wished, it has nothing to do with me," I said firmly. His laugh was low, bitter. He picked up the knife, cut a slice of cake, and slid it onto a plate. "Nothing to do with you? My wish was about you, Freya. I wished for you and me to live safely, year after year. I wished you'd take my hand and stay with me until the end. Do you remember, when you once bought me a birthday gift, wasn't that your wish too?" My throat tightened, but I shook my head. "That was then. Now, it's impossible-" "There's nothing impossible!" His voice cut across mine, sharp as a whip. He strode toward me, the plate trembling in his hands, his eyes glowing with a storm-mad intensity. "You said you couldn't trust me because I kept secrets. Then let's start again. I'll earn your trust back, piece by piece." "Silas-" "I know Eric's disappearance still haunts you," he continued, his voice dropping to a dangerous softness. "Because of my coldness then, your brother is still missing. But I can help you find him. I will help you." I froze. His words sank like claws into the hollow place in my chest where Eric's name lived. "My family's network stretches beyond the Coalition," he pressed on, eyes never leaving mine. "The Whitmors have spies in every corner of the world-yes, even in D-country. You can use your pack's ties to the Iron Fang Recon Unit, and I can use mine. Together, we'll find him faster." He stopped in front of me, close enough that his breath brushed my skin. His hand lifted, holding out the plate, the small piece of cake a fragile peace offering. "Freya," he whispered, "as long as you stop talking about breaking up, you can have all of me. All my resources. All my strength. Every drop of the Whitmor power. Just don't walk away. Please. Let's not end this." The room was silent except for the faint hiss of the candles' smoke.His eyes locked on mine, unblinking, burning with the desperate devotion of a wolf who would rather break the world than lose his mate. And in that moment, I realized the truth that made my blood run cold- He wasn't asking me to stay. He was daring me to try and leave.