A Warrior Luna's Awakening | Read Free Preview

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Chapter 1

Freya's POV
The coronation ceremony was in full swing, laughter drifting through the moonlit clearing like the ghosts of joy I no longer recognized.
And in the center-he stood.
My mate.
Alpha Caelum.
Today was supposed to be our third anniversary. He had told me he was too busy-too busy for vows beneath the moon, too busy for me. Yet here he was, not at my side, but standing beside her.
Aurora.
Daughter of the Bluemoon Pack. Beta-born. Newly anointed female pilot of the Airborne Wing. The council's perfect heir.
I noticed first the absence on his hand. The wedding band he once swore never to take off was gone.
"Forgot," I could imagine his answer when I asked. But I knew better-Aurora didn't want the world to know he was already claimed, and for her, he was willing to strip me off his skin.
Aurora rushed into his arms before the Circle of Stone, laughter bright as if the moon itself had kissed her.
Then she spoke.
Her voice, soft as down-fur and twice as venomous, slid through the firelit circle like a velvet-wrapped blade.
"Alpha Caelum, you said…" She tilted her head, eyes glinting with calculated cruelty. "You said that when I became the female pilot, you would give me something no one else could ever have. A token of loyalty. Of love. Was that just pillow talk?"
The clearing froze for a single heartbeat.
Then the wolves erupted-not in challenge, not in outrage, but in celebration. Howls rose into the sky like smoke from a pyre; paws clapped, throats snarled their approval; even the elders nodded as if pride had taken root in their bones. They thought this was his claim. His Luna revealed.
Because Caelum had never spoken my name.
Never marked me.
Never declared me before the Circle of Stone.
And now, when Aurora stood beside him, it was her they saw.
Caelum did not deny her words.
He smiled.
Not the boyish grin he once gave me beneath the stars when we named imaginary pups in the constellations, but a smile colder, sharper, calculated-the smile of an Alpha claiming his prize. His hand slipped into his coat, and when it reemerged, I saw it.
The ring.
The one from the Crescent Black Market, the one I had begged for not because of its worth but because it was the last tether to my mother. And now, he slid the ring onto Aurora's finger.
Something inside me broke.
I lunged forward through the circle of wolves, through hands mid-clap and mouths mid-howl.
"Wait!"
Gasps cut through the night. Faces turned toward me. Not with pity. Not with understanding. But with outrage.
"She dares interrupt the Alpha?"
"Who is she to defy him?"
"Ungrateful Omega-does she think herself above the Circle?"
The elders' voices carried like thunder, layered with centuries of law.
"Step back, girl. You shame yourself. You shame the Alpha."
Ryker, Caelum's enforcer, sneered from the shadows. "One ring and she's drooling like it's moonstone and fate," he jeered. "Told you Omegas are shallow. Especially the orphaned ones."
Their condemnation seared through me like fire, each word a lash across already bleeding skin. But I did not stop. My eyes were fixed on the ring glinting at Aurora's finger.
My hand reached-
Caelum caught my wrist, iron and command in his grip.
"It's hers now," he said, every syllable sharpened with Alpha authority.
"But you promised," I whispered.
He did not blink.
"It was a gift. For Aurora. To celebrate her promotion."
Promotion.
As if the ring hadn't belonged to the ghost of a war hero.
As if it hadn't been bought with blood.
I stared at him. "What if I told you I wasn't asking?"
Behind him, Ryker barked out a laugh. "Gold-digger. I told you she was never Alpha's equal. Just a charity case with good eyes and no teeth."
Aurora scoffed, unclasping the ring. "Please. I didn't even want it. Caelum never said it meant anything." She tossed it at my feet.
The ruby struck the ground with a sound that echoed like a curse.
Snickers rippled through the crowd. The elders shook their heads in disdain.
"Dare to offend our future Luna, she should be punished."
Their judgment cut deeper than any blade.
But I said nothing.
I knelt, fingers curling around the gem, pressing it into my palm until its edges bit into my skin.
This ring had once belonged to Healer Myra. Medic. Warrior. My mother. They dismissed her as another Omega, but they did not know she had negotiated peace in blood territory with nothing but her name and this ring.
They did not know about my father either-Arthur Thorne, field strategist, the Ghost General of the Iron Fang, who lost his entire unit in enemy territory except for the peace their sacrifice purchased.
And they did not know about me.
Arthur's only daughter.
Once a frontline commander in the Iron Fang Recon Unit, a black ops force so secret that even the council had no jurisdiction. When I retired, I had not only been ordered to bury my identity-I had been forbidden, by blood-vow, to release my true scent. My Alpha pheromones.
For three years I suppressed every instinct, not with suppression drugs, which never worked on high-ranking wolves, but through raw will, discipline, pain. And even after the vow expired, I kept hiding it. Why? Because I wanted to believe love was possible without dominance. That someone could love me for who I was, not for my Alpha blood, not for my legacy, not for the wolf coiled beneath my skin.
So when I met Caelum-when I found him broken yet ambitious, a wolf with dreams too big for his pack-born chains-I let him see only what I chose: a humble Omega from a rear logistics unit. A woman with no past, no expectations, no name.
And I chose him.
I believed that would be enough.
So I gave him everything-my parents' blood-earned compensation, the resources they died to protect, the foundation of the Silverfang Pack, the capital to build his company. I gave him three years of my life-three years of faith, loyalty, waiting.
And now, I stood betrayed, looking at the man I once called pack.
Slowly, I rose. The ache in my chest hardened into something colder.
"Forget the ring," I said. "Tomorrow, my parents return from the Eastern Border. I want you beside me. Stand as my mate."
For the first time, his composure wavered. A flicker-guilt? Doubt?
"Alright," he said at last.
I turned and walked away.
Behind me, Ryker muttered, "Courier service for dead Omegas now? What's next, ghost parades?"
I didn't turn.
I only held the ring tighter.
"Rest easy," I whispered. "Tomorrow, you come home."
Their laughter and sneers trailed after me as I passed-elders shaking their heads, guests whispering as though my disgrace was entertainment.
Let them think Aurora will be their Luna. Let them believe their Alpha is a man who knows loyalty.
The day they learn the truth, the shame won't be mine to carry.
It will be theirs.

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Chapter 2

Freya's POV
The next morning, at the exact hour we'd agreed to meet, I stood alone-waiting.
Caelum never showed.
An ache began to bloom in my chest, slow and steady, like frost creeping across glass. I told myself to be patient, told myself he would come. That surely, this time, he wouldn't let me down.
I reached for the mind-link.
A flicker of hope.
Maybe he was on his way.
But when he answered, his voice wasn't rushed or apologetic. It was flat. Bored.
"Aurora fainted this morning," Caelum said. "She said she woke up dizzy and couldn't breathe. I'm staying with her at the infirmary for observation."
In the background, her voice chimed in-light, airy, perfectly timed.
"Caelum, could you fluff my pillow again? The one behind my neck is making me lightheaded."
He chuckled softly. Like she was made of glass.
"Of course, darling. Just a second."
The line went dead.
Just like that.
No apology. No explanation. No remorse.
A fainting spell.
Over a funeral.
He chose her. Again.
I stared at the silent space where his voice had been, my throat tightening like a noose. Part of me wanted to scream. To rage. To weep.
But I didn't.
I rose. Straightened my spine. Walked out of the Silverfang estate without a single backward glance.
The wind was cold when I stepped outside, but my blood burned hotter with every step.
I drove alone to the outer garrison.
The war barracks loomed in solemn silence, their stone towers piercing the morning fog. Guards flanked the gates, clad in ceremonial black, bearing the insignia of the Lycan Nation's fallen legion.
I stepped out of the car, boots crunching against gravel, and lifted my chin.
Three years had passed since I retired from the Iron Fang Recon Unit, but my posture had not forgotten. Neither had my soul.
I walked to the front line of guards, and I stood still.
Then, with slow purpose, I raised my hand in a crisp, unwavering salute.
Even if I was alone-
Even if not a single soul stood beside me-
I would honor them.
My voice rang through the morning air:
"Former Iron Fang Recon Unit Commander, Freya Thorne, reporting to receive the ashes of Healer Myra and Commander Arthur Thorne-fallen in service to the Lycan Nation."
My words echoed across the barracks.
And then-
The gates creaked open.
Two rows of soldiers emerged, each movement perfectly synchronized. They lined the path, steel-eyed and reverent, raising their arms in solemn salute.
At their center came a figure I hadn't seen in years-General Aldred, one of my father's closest comrades.
He wore full dress armor. In his hands, he carried a carved onyx urn, draped with the crimson-and-gold battle standard of the Lycan Nation.
My eyes burned.
That red-
That banner-
It wasn't just cloth.
It was belief.
It was sacrifice.
It was my parents' last breath, folded into the colors they bled for.
Aldred stood before me. His voice was low.
"When we found them... there was no separating what was hers and what was his. The explosion took everything."
I swallowed the sob clawing its way up my throat.
He continued, voice thick with reverence.
"They fought side by side. They died together. The ashes... were combined."
I nodded, my fingers already trembling as I reached out.
"Good," I whispered. "They loved each other more than life. In death, they should stay that way."
Aldred straightened, then held the urn out to me.
"To the honored dead," he said. "Their sacrifice shall never be forgotten."
The soldiers behind him echoed in unison, their voices a wall of thunder:
"Honor to the fallen! Glory to the Thorne line!"
My hands closed around the urn.
Heavy.
Sacred.
And yet... for the first time in days, I felt steady.
The grief didn't vanish. It settled.
Like a blade sheathed, not gone-but held with purpose.
I looked at Aldred.
He was watching me.
"Where's your mate?" he asked gently. "Didn't he come with you?"
I stared down at the urn.
Then I smiled-a small, tired curve of the lips.
"He was needed elsewhere."
Aldred frowned.
He was no fool. He'd watched me grow up. He saw through things.
"If you need anything," he said, voice firm, "anything at all-you come back here. The Iron Fang Unit may be disbanded, but its loyalty doesn't die."
My throat tightened again.
"Thank you, General."
He gripped my shoulder. Strong. Steady.
"And remember, Commander-this pack may not recognize your strength, but we do. You are always welcome here."
I nodded.
Then I turned and walked back to my car.
I placed the urn gently on the passenger seat, strapping it in as if it were still flesh and blood.
Then I looked out at the open road.
"We're going home now, Mom. Dad," I whispered.
My foot pressed to the pedal.
And I drove.
Alone-but no longer broken.

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Chapter 3

Freya's POV
When I returned to the Silverfang estate, I heard her voice before I even stepped into the den.
"Now that Aurora is back-and she's a pilot, no less-you should divorce Freya and mate her instead," Caelum's mother, Eleanor, said with confidence that dripped like poison.
"Aurora and I are just friends," Caelum replied, his voice low.
"Friends? Please," another voice scoffed.
That would be Giselle, his younger sister. "Everyone knows you were in love with Aurora first. She's the first female pilot of the Airborne Wing! Freya doesn't even have a title. She has nothing. She's just... no match for you."
Their words slithered through the air like venom.
Three years. I had stood by Caelum through every sleepless night, every brutal mission, every negotiation with rogue factions and foreign Alphas. I had patched his wounds, run pack operations in his absence, even when my own heart felt like it was bleeding out.
And now? Now I was "no match"?
Just then, Giselle caught sight of me standing in the entryway.
"Oh, look who's here. Were you eavesdropping, Omega?"
I stepped forward, spine straight.
"I wasn't hiding. I wasn't sneaking. I walked through the front door."
"Well, then good," she snapped. "Because you should hear it. You should leave now. Don't stand in the way of Caelum and Aurora."
"Enough, Giselle," Caelum growled.
But she didn't stop.
"She only got to mate you because Aurora was away training. She swooped in when your heart was broken, and now she's just clinging like a parasite."
"Giselle, that's enough," Caelum said again, sharper now.
She pouted but fell silent.
Eleanor stepped in to soothe her daughter, but her glare was still fixed on me.
Caelum walked over, and his gaze flicked down to the black wooden box I held in my arms-smooth, engraved, and draped in the crimson banner of the Lycan Legion.
"What is that?" he asked.
"My parents' ashes," I said flatly. "I brought them home."
Guilt flashed across his face. "I'm sorry. I should've been there, but Aurora-she collapsed this morning. Hyperventilation or something."
Before he could finish, Eleanor shrieked, "Ashes? Did you bring ashes into this house?!"
I blinked. "Yes. They're my parents. They served the Lycan Nation with honor. They were heroes."
Eleanor stared at me as though I'd tracked filth onto her pristine white rug.
"I don't care who they were. Ashes are cursed. You cannot bring that... thing... into this home!"
My grip on the urn tightened.
"This is my home, too," I said coldly. "Caelum and I bought it together after the coronation ceremony."
"With Caelum's money!" Giselle snapped. "Just put it somewhere else! Don't bring your cursed family into this house!"
"Giselle!" Caelum barked.
But she wasn't finished. "You want her bringing bones into Mom's house after her eye surgery?! The doctor said she can't get upset! Are you trying to kill her?!"
Caelum hesitated.
Then he said it.
"Just... put them somewhere else for now, Freya. Please."
The world tilted.
He couldn't look at me when he said it.
"You think they're cursed too?" I whispered.
He didn't answer.
"Three years of standing by your side. Three years of putting your pack before my dreams. When your mother needed surgery, who found the specialist? Who used every contact I had in the Capitol to make sure her eyesight was saved? Who carried your bleeding body back from that rogue ambush in Black Hollow?"
No one answered. Their silence said enough.
"And now I ask for one thing. A place for my parents to rest. And it's too much?"
Giselle sneered. "You didn't do anything special. Caelum's the one with influence. That doctor saw Mom because he respects him. Not you."
I turned back to Caelum.
"I want to keep them here. Just for a few days. Just until we build the shrine they deserve."
He didn't move.
"Don't be unreasonable," he said quietly.
"And if I insist?"
Before he could respond, Eleanor lunged forward.
"Not while I'm alive!" she shrieked, raising her hand.
The slap came hard and fast.
Pain bloomed across my cheek as I stumbled back, still cradling the urn.
Before I could regain my balance, she shoved forward, striking the box with both hands.
It slipped.
No.
Time slowed as the urn tumbled from my arms.
My wolf surged beneath my skin the moment Eleanor bared her fangs-metaphorically, for now.
My pupils narrowed into slits. Instinct roared through my blood like a battle drum. In one swift movement, I wrapped my arms around the obsidian ashwood urn, holding it close like a mother shielding her pup.
"This is my parents' remains!" My voice trembled with barely restrained fury, edged with a snarl. "They died protecting the Lycan lands-you dare insult them?"
Eleanor's voice cracked like a whip through the stone hall of the packhouse. "This is my son's den! You bring death into it and expect what-gratitude? Get that cursed thing out before I break it myself! Let your mongrel parents see what kind of filthy Omega daughter they raised!"
My wolf's hackles rose, fur bristling beneath my skin. I fought the shift clawing at me. Not now. Not here.
"You may be Caelum's mother, but you are not Luna of this house!" I snapped, voice sharp like shattered glass. "And you will not spit on the honor of warriors who gave their lives to keep you safe behind these damn walls."
Caelum's scent reached me before his words did-cedar and frost, as cold and unyielding as the look on his face.
"Freya… just take it out. Please." His jaw was tight. "My mother's condition is fragile. If anything happens because of this-if she shifts or falls sick again-I won't forgive you."
Something inside me cracked. Loud. Final.

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