Chapter 21
The grand hall erupted into a cacophony of gasps and murmurs, the weight of my father’s thunderous voice silencing the bravest of wolves. The tension was
palpable, suffocating, as all eyes turned to Lucian. He stood rooted in place, his pride shattered, his expression a volatile blend of fury and despair.
Vlanche, pale as a ghost, stumbled
backward, her hand instinctively reaching for Lucian’s arm. He shrugged her off, his attention fixated entirely on me.
“Freya,” he said, his voice trembling, a hollow echo of the bravado he’d once flaunted. “Please, you have to listen to me.”
I arched a brow, my expression as cold as the Stormhood name I bore. “Listen to
what? Another excuse? Another feeble
attempt to salvage what little dignity you have left?”
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“Freya, please, I was wrong,
he
stammered, his hands shaking as he took a hesitant step forward. “I didn’t know-”
“You didn’t know?” I cut him off sharply, my voice slicing through the murmurs like a blade. “You didn’t know I was a Stormhood, so you thought it acceptable to treat me like dirt? To mock
me? And worse–to cheat on me with a low- blood girl?”
He flinched, the weight of my words visibly crushing him. Vlanche gasped, her face crimson as she hastily tried to shield herself behind her hands.
“I… I was foolish,” Lucian admitted, his voice breaking under the pressure. “I let my pride blind me. Freya, I-”
“Enough.” My father‘ s commanding tone echoed once more, silencing Lucian’s pitiful pleas. His gaze bore into him with the force of an alpha’s fury.
“Do you truly believe an apology can erase the insult you’ve brought upon my
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daughter? Upon my bloodline?”
Lucian fell to his knees, the sound of his collapse reverberating through the grand hall. A collective gasp rippled through the gathered wolves. His fists clenched, his head bowed in a futile attempt at humility.
“Alpha Stormhood,” he pleaded, his voice raw. “I beg you–just one chance to explain myself. It was all a misunderstanding…”
My mother stepped forward, her regal presence commanding the room as she gazed down at Lucian with ice–cold disdain. “You dare to kneel in this hall after publicly humiliating my daughter?” Her voice dripped with contempt. “Have you no shame, boy? And, if I recall
correctly, no one invited you to this sacred gathering.”
“Please!” Lucian’s voice cracked, his desperation spilling out like an open
wound. He turned to me, his once–arrogant demeanor crumbling. “Freya, you‘ re my
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mate! You must feel it too. Give me a chance to prove myself!”
The crowd erupted into whispers, the weight of his claim rippling through the hall. Boone’s ever–present smirk faltered, and Alpha Darian–standing just beside me -tensed, his dark eyes narrowing
dangerously.
“Mate?” I repeated, mockery dripping from my tone as I stepped closer to Lucian. I leaned down slightly, my gaze boring into his. “A mate doesn‘ t humiliate the other. A mate doesn‘ t treat their partner like a pawn in their schemes. You, Lucian, don‘ t deserve the title.”
“Freya, please!” His voice grew frantic, his hands clawing at the polished marble. floor as though seeking purchase in a sinking world.
Straightening, I turned my back to him, the dismissal final. “Your desperation is pathetic, Lucian.”
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Alpha Darian stepped forward, his presence radiating authority as he placed a protective hand on my shoulder. “You‘ ve had your chance to speak,” he said firmly. “Leave this hall now, before you disgrace yourself further.”
But Lucian didn’t move. His breathing grew uneven, his eyes wild with unrestrained emotion. “If you send me away now,” he warned, his voice low and trembling, “you’ll regret it, Freya. You’ll regret rejecting me.”
I glanced at him over my shoulder, my voice calm but cutting. “No, Lucian. My only regret is ever allowing someone like you to leech off the strength of my name.” My tone hardened, each word a nail in the coffin of his pride. “Now, I can finally breathe.‘
The room descended into a heavy silence, the wolves waiting with bated breath for Lucian’s next move. But as he knelt there, broken and defeated, it became clear that
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the storm he had once stirred had turned against him–and I was its fury.
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