Third Person's POV Freya fell silent after Lana's words. Maybe Lana was right. Maybe she truly needed to stop running from the truth and face what had been clawing at her for weeks. If she still couldn't let Silas go, then… Before she could follow that thought further, Lana spoke again, suddenly bright. "Oh-by the way. In two days, Whitmore Industries is holding their annual gathering. You should get ready and come with me." Freya blinked. "Annual gathering?" "Yes," Lana replied, leaning against her desk. "Remember the three-way procurement bidding? They sent confirmation today-SkyVex Armaments secured the contract. They always invite their suppliers to the annual celebration, and the invitation arrived earlier." She smiled, but her eyes held something more deliberate, a gentle nudge. "You can use the next few days to think clearly." Lana knew Freya too well. She knew Freya admired Kade deeply, respected him as a comrade from the Iron Fang Recon Unit… but never felt the kind of gravity she felt with Silas. Not the kind that lodged in the ribs and refused to leave. "Alright," Freya said quietly. "I'll go with you." "Good. Then we'll pick out your dress together. Jewelry too?" Lana asked. "Just the dress. I already have jewelry." "Perfect." Later that night, back in her room, Freya opened the small vault beneath her bed and took out the box she rarely touched. Inside it lay her mother's blood-red ruby necklace. Myra's necklace.A piece of her mother's life, carved in gemstone and memory. Myra had always told her that the necklace had been on her even when Arthur's parents found her as a lost three-year-old-cold, frightened, barely able to speak her own name. Her clothes back then had been thick enough to hide the necklace, or she might never have kept it. The chain bore a single character engraved so small it could be missed: Myra's family mark before adoption. Myra had only remembered being called "Naya," and so Arthur's parents had given her the name Myra when they adopted her. Myra and Arthur grew up together, packmates turned soulmates, and the necklace had stayed with her-through childhood, adulthood, and battles. Through joy, grief, loss, rebirth. Until that terrible winter in a foreign land, when she traded the necklace for medicine and rations to save fifty orphans. It returned to Freya only after Myra's death. Now, holding it, Freya felt her mother's presence settle around her like a warm cloak. If Myra were still alive… How would she view Silas Whitmor? What would she say to Freya now-when Freya's heart sat on uncertain ground, unable to move forward yet unable to retreat? "Mom…" Freya whispered, clutching the cool ruby. "I think I really like Silas. I'm just… not sure I have confidence anymore." She didn't trust herself-not wholly. She feared rebuilding trust only to break again. Feared repeating the pain she thought she had left behind after Caelum Grafton. The wolf inside her let out a long, aching breath. Across the city, Lana was finishing up paperwork when Duke arrived at SkyVex, shoulders tense with worry. She had invited him to join the company weeks earlier, telling him he'd make a good fit if he needed a stable job. Back then, he had refused. Now he stood before her, clearly hesitant. "About what you said last time…" he murmured. "Does it still count? Can I still… work here? I-I'm short on money."Lana's expression softened. "Of course it counts." Relief washed over his face. "I'll have my secretary show you around the company," she continued. "Get a feel for the departments, see where you fit best." Duke nodded, gratitude filling his eyes. "Thank you." "How much do you need?" Lana asked gently. "You told me before your family member got sick and that's why you… worked part-time as a model. Tell me the number." "Two hundred thousand," he whispered, almost ashamed. "Send me your bank details. I'll transfer it later." Duke's head snapped up. "You'd send me two hundred thousand? Aren't you afraid I won't pay you back?" Lana smiled. "If you could've asked for help sooner, you would've. But you didn't. You tried to handle everything yourself first. That's why I'm not worried." Otherwise, he wouldn't have taken so many days to gather the courage to come. Duke's cheeks flushed red. "When people are struggling, they need a hand," Lana added. "You helped me once. Pulled me out of a dark place. It's only right I help you now." His eyes grew misty. "Thank you… truly." She had him fill out the basic onboarding forms and sent him with her secretary. The moment they left, Lana phoned finance. "Transfer three hundred thousand to the account he listed," she instructed. Ten extra-just in case. Freya walked into Lana's office just as Lana ended the call. "Who are you sending money to?" Freya asked lightly. "Duke," Lana replied. "A friend. An old benefactor. He'll be joining the company. Anyway-let's go pick out dresses for the Whitmore celebration." "Alright." But Freya did not expect what came next.The styling salon was bright and luxurious, filled with the scent of lavender oils and polished marble. Elegant gowns hung from crystal racks, each shimmering beneath the chandelier light like moonlit frost. And then Freya saw them. Her brother, Eric Thorne. And beside him-Jenny Williams. Jenny was clinging to Parker Williams's arm intimately, chin tilted arrogantly as she demanded the boutique bring out their most expensive gowns. The sight hit Freya with the cold sting of a winter wind across the Bloodmoon borders. Lana exhaled softly beside her, recognizing trouble immediately.