Chapter 105
Chapter 105
Freya’s POV
Kade’s voice cut the air like a claw.
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“Freya, that’s because you haven’t heard the stories about him. If I told you what Silas Whitmor has done p>
I didn’t let him finish. “Stories aren’t truth. Rumors carry no scent. I trust what I see with my own eyes p>
Kade’s jaw tightened, but before he could argue again, his gaze shifted past me, over my shoulder. My wolf stirred, hackles rising. I turned, wary, and found Silas standing not far away, shadows clinging to him like they belonged there. I had no idea how long he’d been there–or how much he’d heard.
At that moment, the registrar’s system called my number. Saved by a machine. I rose, striding toward the counter, leaving both men behind to circle each other like wolves about to bare teeth.
By the time I finished the property transfer, their tension thickened the air.
“What a coincidence,” Kade said, voice clipped, when I returned. “You here on business too, Whitmor p>
Silas’s mouth curved, but his eyes stayed flat. “Not a coincidence. I came to find Freya p>
The way he said my name–low, certain made Kade bristle instantly.
“Freya?” Kade’s brows snapped together. “Who gave you the right to call her that p>
“She did.” Silas’s tone was ice. “And it seems the young heir of the Blackridges has a habit of whispering behind backs. You seem well–versed in my so–called ‘stories,‘ Kade. Do you take pride in gossip p>
“If warning Freya about you makes me a villain, then I’ll wear the role gladly,” Kade snapped. His wolf surged through his voice, sharp with possessiveness. “I’d rather she hate me than see her fall for someone like you p>
Silas’s lips curved in something close to mockery. “So that’s it–you’re afraid she might want me p>
Kade’s nostrils flared. Anger rolled off him, sharp and bitter. Then, strangely, he laughed–a harsh sound. “Freya is sunlight. Clear skies. She would never choose a man who lives in shadow. Don’t forget, Silas–I was raised among lawyers. My mother’s kin. The Blackridge family knows every hidden truth in The Capital’s highborn circles. Every dirty secret. Including your Whitmore clan p>
At that, Silas’s expression darkened, his eyes gleaming like an Alpha about to strike. He lifted a hand, his wolf pressing outward like a storm front, and for a heartbeat I thought he might wrap his fingers around Kade’s throat and end it right there.
But then–he stilled. A dangerous pause. If he touched Kade here, in public, with me watching… he would lose me. Silas knew it. His wolf seethed, but his hand fell back to his side.
His voice was low when he finally spoke. “She’s not a woman who takes stock in rumors. She’d never believe your whispers. All you’ll earn is her mistrust–for yourself p>
The two men stood there, eye to eye, Alpha against Alpha–in–the–making, neither willing to bow.
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Chapter 105
I slipped between them, the air heavy with tension. “What’s going on here p>
“Nothing.” Silas answered smoothly. “Just a little… conversation. You’re finished here p>
“Yes.” I nodded.
“Good. I need you to come with me.” His voice left no room for refusal.
“Alright,” I agreed. After all, for now, he was my assignment–my responsibility.
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He gave me a nod toward the exit. I turned to Kade. “I’m sorry–I’d planned to buy you dinner after this p>
“No matter,” Kade said, his smile tight but his eyes burning. “I can share a meal with you any time p>
Before I could react, he stepped forward, wrapping me in a strong, familiar embrace. The kind soldiers each other on the battlefield, a bond of comrades–in–arms. I returned it naturally, muscle memory from years in the Iron Fang Recon Unit,
gave
But even in that brief contact, I felt the shift–Kade’s wolf glaring over my shoulder, challenging Silas with every beat of his heart p>
When I pulled away, Silas’s jaw was locked tight, his lips drawn in a line so thin it could cut.
We left together, sliding into his car.
I buckled in, glancing sideways at him. “So. What exactly do you need me to do p>
“Tomorrow night,” he said without preamble, “there’s a banquet. You’ll come with me p>
I exhaled slowly. “Fine. And now p>
His eyes flicked to me, dark as storm clouds. “Now we find you something to wear p>
“A dress? Silas, dresses aren’t made for combat p>
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“Then we’ll find one you can fight in.” His words were final, his tone brooking no argument.
I almost laughed. A dress fit for blood and battle? Somehow, I suspected Silas Whitmor had just the kind of taste to find one.
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