Third Person's POV Freya paused, her breath caught somewhere between grief and guilt as she stood before the stone sigil marking her parents' resting place within the Ashbourne Legion's Hall of Martyrs. The cold morning wind raked across the cliffside memorial ground, carrying with it the faint metallic tang of old battles and consecrated blood. She lowered her gaze to the engraved runes that bore Arthur's and Myra's names-her father and mother, warriors of Stormveil Pack's Fifth Branch, defenders of the northern front. Her voice was soft, but the ache in it cut deeper than any blade. "I'm sorry… for everything. And I'm sorry, Mom and Dad." Because despite Jenny's vicious insults toward Arthur and Myra, despite everything the Williams girl had done to drag her family's honor through the mud, Freya still had to bow her head, still had to endure, still had to plead for peace that tasted like ash in her mouth. It was humiliating. It was unjust. And yet she stood here, kneeling before the stone, shouldering the burden alone. When she and Parker finally stepped out of the Hall of Martyrs, the sun had already begun sinking behind the jagged ridgelines. They headed toward their vehicle-an armored WolfComm rover-and began the long return toward The Capital. Halfway down the forest road, Parker's communicator chimed with the distinctive triple-pulse of a Williams Family priority call. He answered. A beat later, the color drained slightly from his face. When he ended the call, he looked at Freya. "Everett… Everett wants to see us the moment we return to the city." Freya blinked. "Us?" "Yes." Parker's expression was unreadable. "He wants to see you, too." Freya's wolf bristled beneath her skin, a low growl rising like cold fire in her veins. But she merely inhaled and nodded. "It's fine. I was going to meet him eventually."Then she turned to Parker, eyes narrowing slightly. "And what about you? In what identity do you plan to face Everett? As Parker? Or as Eric?" Parker went quiet for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was steady-but shaded with something older, heavier. "Back then… the Williams matriarch saved my life. Without the treatment she arranged, I would've been dead within a month. My illness was too advanced." Freya listened silently, the forest shadows sliding over his features. "But later…" Parker continued, "the old matriarch became convinced I was Everett's son. Maybe because, when Everett was young, he and I looked… almost identical." Freya's brows drew together sharply. "But you're not. A single blood test proves that." "Yes." Parker's lips tightened. "The Williams Family knew. All of them. But no one dared tell her. She'd already suffered the loss of her daughter years ago. Her mind… wavers in and out of clarity. Telling her the truth would have shattered her completely." Freya exhaled. "So you became Everett's illegitimate son." Parker nodded once. "I agreed to it. The Williams Family saved me. I owed them that much. Until the matriarch's final passing, I would remain Parker." And later… when Lana became ill, when the medical bills piled high, when he needed the Williams resources-he had clung to that identity even harder. Only now did Freya fully understand why her brother refused to reclaim the name Eric Thorne despite the truth in the DNA reports. Why he kept living as Parker Williams even when it tormented him. By the time their rover reached The Capital, night had fallen, draping the skyscrapers and skybridges in silver moonlight. Inside the penthouse suite's receiving hall, they found Everett waiting. The man looked exactly as the rumors said-cold as a winter-touched blade, but wrapped in the polished elegance of a statesman. He stood in front of the panoramic window, city lights reflecting off the runic bands around his wrists. When Freya entered, Everett turned slowly toward her. "So you are Freya," he said. "I heard what happened in D-country… that you saved Parker's life and took a bullet for him. I have wished to meet you ever since." Freya raised her chin, her wolf's gaze steady and unflinching. Up close, Everett did bear an uncanny resemblance to Parker-especially around the eyes. Anyone would have assumed a father-son bond. But truth was truth. "I didn't save him on behalf of your family," she replied. "I saved my brother. That is all." Everett's eyes narrowed. "Your brother?" "You know very well," Freya said without blinking, "that he is Eric-Arthur and Myra's son. My brother." Everett's gaze slid toward Parker. "And you. Do you stand as Eric or Parker?" Parker drew in a long breath. "I am Eric Thorne. Son of Arthur and Myra. Brother to Freya." He placed a palm over his chest. "Even without my memories… this truth doesn't change." Everett's expression darkened. "So you intend to live as Eric." "I will repay what I owe the Williams Family," Parker said firmly. "Until the matriarch's last breath, I will remain Parker in her presence. But-only in hers." Freya's heart tightened. He had learned fragments of his past through her-pieces of childhood, of laughter, of loss-and once he learned the truth, he could no longer force himself to live as someone else's son. His parents had died still searching for him. They had left this world with that sorrow carved into their bones.Everett's fingers tightened around the prayer beads he carried. "Only in her presence? Then outside, you would openly resume the identity of Eric?" His voice grew sharper. "Do you think she lives in isolation? The moment you reclaim the Thorne name, she will know." "Then we will find a way," Parker said quietly. "Some method… to reassure her that I am still Parker. For her sake." Everett's eyes flicked to Freya. "I had hoped," he said, voice lowering, "that you would accept the Williams Family's gratitude. We can offer you fifty million credits… a small gesture of thanks. But if you refuse…" His tone shifted-gentle as velvet, sharp as a predator's tooth. "…then things may become far more complicated."