Third Person's POV "What do you mean, my brother's gone? You said he was fine!" Silas's jaw tightened. "He is fine. But while you were unconscious… he left. Parker and Jenny returned to C country this morning." Freya froze, the blood draining from her face. Gone? Her brother-Eric-was gone? Her pulse surged, and she tried to push herself up despite the pain lancing through her shoulder. "Then I'll go to C country. I have to see him!" Silas caught her before she could move further, his hand firm on her uninjured shoulder. "Freya, stop. You were shot. You've been unconscious for twenty-four hours. If you tear the wound again, your shoulder may never heal." "That's my brother," she retorted, voice trembling. "Of course I care!" For a heartbeat, Silas went utterly still. Of course she did. It had always been that way-her heart tethered to the brother she'd lost and found again. He knew this. He had always known. "Would you throw your life away for him?" His voice cracked under the weight of the question. The past day had carved deep shadows under his eyes. Every time he'd closed them, he'd seen her lying there-bleeding, limp, her scent growing fainter by the second. It had clawed something raw inside him. Freya met his gaze steadily. "He's my brother." Just four words. But they held the gravity of everything she was. Silas drew in a sharp breath through his teeth, frustration and fear flickering behind his eyes. "If you knew it was dangerous, why didn't you call me?" Her lips were pale and dry. "There was no time. And you… you didn't owe me anything." Especially not after the way they had last parted-words like blades, silence like frost. "So you'd rather end up like this?" Silas's voice rose, cracking under the emotion he'd tried so hard to suppress. "Do you have any idea what it did to me when I saw you bleeding? Freya-how could you-how could you-" His voice broke. The words dissolved into something raw and wordless.Kade stood quietly near the bed, uncharacteristically silent. He'd seen Silas Whitmor furious before, but never like this-never so human, never so afraid. Freya's gaze softened. Silas's eyes were hard, but beneath that steel was a kind of grief that twisted her chest. He looked as if her death would have destroyed him. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I didn't mean to worry you." Silas's eyes lowered. After a long pause, he spoke, voice rough. "I'll have a private jet arranged. You'll return to The Capital tomorrow. The healers there will take better care of you. Your shoulder needs proper recovery." Freya blinked, startled by his sudden practicality. Kade nodded beside her. "I agree. It's safer that way. And if you still want to go to C country, you'll need to go home first and apply for a travel pass through the Pack Council." Freya let out a faint, bitter laugh. "Right… of course." Her brother was gone, across borders now. Even if she chased after him, she'd have to return first. There was no other way. "Fine," she murmured. "I'll go back." Silas straightened, his expression controlled again. "The flight leaves tomorrow morning. I'll have a medical escort ready. Rest now." Without waiting for a reply, he turned and strode out of the room. Outside, the hallway smelled faintly of antiseptic and steel. Waiting there was Wren, holding a tablet. "Alpha, we've identified the shooter," he reported. "Name's Gunther Cole. Member of the rogue syndicate who took Jenny Williams. He's in custody. Lost his right hand." "Only his hand?" Silas's tone was ice. His gaze fell to the photograph attached to the report. Gunther's scarred face stared back, unrepentant. That was the bastard who had nearly ended Freya's life. If that bullet had been just an inch closer to her heart- "Make sure he never leaves that cell," Silas said coldly. "Cripple every limb if you must. I want him alive-but in agony-for the rest of his miserable life." "Yes, Alpha." Silas turned away, his knuckles white. The monster inside him-the wolf-still raged for blood. But for Freya's sake, he swallowed it back.Inside the ward, the air was quieter now. Kade sat at Freya's bedside, his voice low and apologetic. "Freya… I'm sorry. I should've protected you better." She looked at him in surprise. "What are you talking about? You did protect me. I'd be dead if it weren't for you." He gave a small, bitter laugh. "If I'd really done my job, you wouldn't have gotten hurt at all. I thought I could keep you safe. But when it mattered most… I failed." His voice faltered. Freya lifted her right hand and brushed it lightly over his hair, the same way she used to back in their training days. "Don't say that. If anything, it's my job to protect you. Don't forget-I was your captain once." Kade froze. For a second, he couldn't breathe. Then, something inside him eased. The tight knot of guilt and helplessness loosened, replaced by the quiet strength that always radiated from her. "If it were me in danger," he asked softly, "would you protect me the same way?" "Of course," Freya said without hesitation. She didn't even think about it. They were more than comrades-they were family forged in blood and battle. Kade smiled faintly, the shadow lifting from his face. But deep down, he made a silent vow. If that day ever came, he would never let her bleed for him again. He would take every wound himself if it meant keeping her safe. Just outside the door, Silas watched through the narrow glass panel, unseen. His hands curled into fists at his sides, nails biting into his palms. The sight of her smiling at Kade-of Kade so close, so comfortable-burned in his chest like acid. His jaw clenched, teeth grinding audibly.