Freya's POV

Elder Berengar clears his throat, his expression somber. "Alpha… there’s still one unresolved issue. Sable’s promised mate. How do we handle him?"

Alpha Whitlock drags a hand down his face, exhaling heavily. "Alpha Alistair," he mutters grimly. "This is a mess."

My stomach turns violently. I hadn’t even remembered him until now.

Elder Joram presses his lips into a thin line. "We can’t offer him Sable any longer. She publicly chose another man right before the binding ceremony. Everyone witnessed it—there’s no way to conceal what happened."

Elder Marius folds his arms, nodding in agreement. "Alpha Alistair was promised a worthy mate, one untouched by another. Dishonoring that promise could shame us... and worse, provoke his pack."

Elder Berengar’s voice lowers to a near-whisper. "Without this alliance, everything we’ve worked to secure could crumble."

Alpha Whitlock narrows his eyes at Sable, his voice sharp and accusing. "Do you realize what you’ve done? Look at the disaster you've caused!"

Sable tilts her chin defiantly. "It doesn’t have to end in disaster, Alpha. Jareth wants me—not Freya. And I want him. Let me stay with him, and Freya can take my place with Alpha Alistair."

Her words hit me like a slap. My breath catches, and I stare at her in disbelief. "What?!"

Elder Joram turns to me, something almost apologetic in his gaze. "Freya… if Sable is no longer an option, the responsibility falls to you."

My heart pounds erratically. I shake my head, refusing to believe them. "No. Absolutely not."

Sable moves closer, her eyes blazing with anger. "Why not, Freya? You hold yourself up as the noble one, but when it comes time for you to step up for the pack, suddenly you can’t?"

My fists clench as heat floods my face. "This isn’t about virtue, Sable, and you know it. You and Jareth created this chaos, and now you expect me to clean it up by marrying someone I’ve never even met?"

Her bitter laugh cuts through the tension like a knife. "Oh, now it’s an issue? Funny how you didn’t care when I was being offered to a stranger. But when the same happens to you, it’s unacceptable. Well, Freya, now it’s your turn to know what that feels like."

"Enough!" Alpha Whitlock’s voice thunders, silencing the argument. His sharp gaze locks onto me. "Freya, I know this isn’t fair, but the alliance is critical. If Alpha Alistair is denied a mate, the fallout could ignite war."

My voice trembles, tight with fury and betrayal. "So, I’m just a bargaining chip to you?"

His expression softens slightly, though his tone remains firm. "You’ve always been loyal to this pack as Delta. This is no different—it’s your duty."

"No," I whisper, voice breaking. "If Sable won’t fulfill the agreement, then call off the arrangement entirely."

My father steps forward then, his voice heavy with resignation. "It’s too late for that, Freya. He’s already here."

The air leaves my lungs. "What? When?"

He avoids my gaze. "He arrived this afternoon. I wanted to keep things calm until the meeting tonight—so Sable wouldn’t panic or bolt. I’m sorry."

I feel cold all over. He’s already here.

Alpha Whitlock’s hardened eyes return to Sable. "And you’re ready to let your sister take your place without hesitation?"

Sable nods quickly, looking absurdly self-assured. "Yes, Alpha. Jareth and I love each other. This way, the alliance is saved, and I don’t have to marry someone I don’t know."

Her indifference cuts deep, the callousness of her words more painful than I can bear. That’s how little I matter to her.

Turning to Jareth, Alpha Whitlock demands, "And you, Jareth? Do you have anything to add?"

Jareth’s voice is icy, devoid of emotion. "I don’t care who Alpha Alistair mates. What matters is that I’m no longer interested in Freya. She’s not what I want anymore."

The floor beneath me seems to drop away. My fists tighten at my sides, but somehow, I stay silent.

Alpha Whitlock looks to me once again. "Freya, this is the only solution left to us. It’s for the pack."

I open my mouth, but no words come out. Finally, I force myself to reply. "No. I won’t do it."

"Yes, you will," Jareth growls, shocking me.

I spin toward him, outraged. "Excuse me?"

"You’ll mate him, Freya," he spits harshly. "I made myself clear—I’m done with you. Refusing won’t change anything. For once, stop being selfish and do what needs to be done."

The finality in his voice is crushing, but I refuse to crumble. I step back and nod stiffly. "This conversation is over. If you’ll excuse me."

Nobody stops me as I stride to the door, my pulse deafening. At the threshold, I grab the ceremonial dagger from the table and throw it to the ground. It rings out loudly across the room.

"Freya! Get back here!" Alpha Whitlock’s roar echoes behind me, but I’m already gone.

I push through the doors and into the cool night air. My chest feels like it might explode, anger and pain battling within me.

Nyxa’s voice murmurs gently in my thoughts. "Freya—"

"Not now," I snap. My voice trembles with restrained fury.

Everything blurs as I walk past the deserted training grounds, consumed by my thoughts. I wasn’t even aware of my surroundings until my shoulder crashes into someone.

"I’m—" I begin automatically.

"Watch where you’re going," a deep voice growls.

Looking up, I freeze. It’s him. The man from earlier.

My frown deepens. "What’s your problem? I apologized."

He glares down at me, his tone sharper than before. "And apologies don’t fix everything, do they?"

His anger is palpable, almost matching my own. My temper flares. "You weren’t exactly paying attention either."

He steps closer, his gray eyes hardening into steel. "Be careful with your words," he warns. "You shouldn’t speak carelessly to people you don’t know."

I refuse to back down. "And maybe you should learn some manners. Who exactly do you think you are?"

Surprise flashes across his face briefly, followed by something colder—darker. Without warning, he grabs my wrist and forces me back until my spine hits a nearby tree.

His voice drops low, dangerous. "You’ve got quite the attitude. Someone should teach you the consequences of running that mouth."

My heart pounds in my chest, the strange mix of fear and defiance overwhelming me. His scent—intense and foreign—wraps around me like a shackle.

"And you’ve got quite the ego," I snap breathlessly. "Someone should knock it down before it gets you killed."

We stare each other down, breaths uneven and charged with tension. Then I shove at his chest hard. "Let. Me. Go."

To my surprise, he releases me instantly. Without looking back, I turn and hurry away into the woods, my hands trembling violently.

I finally stop beneath the open sky, the moonlight illuminating the field around me. My chest heaves as I try to fight the anger, the shame, the confusion.

Nyxa’s voice returns, quiet but insistent. "You can’t avoid this forever."

"I know," I whisper hoarsely.

Gathering what little strength I have, I make my way back toward the pack house. Before I’ve gone far, I hear hurried footsteps behind me.

"Freya!" My mother’s voice rings out as she approaches. "Where have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you!"

"I just needed air," I mumble, unwilling to meet her gaze.

"There’s no time now," she says, gripping my arm. "Alpha Whitlock’s asking for you in his office this instant. Alpha Alistair is waiting."

My stomach lurches painfully. "Now? I can’t go looking like this." My eyes drop to my wrinkled, dusty clothes.

She fusses over me, brushing dirt off and picking at a stray leaf. "There’s no help for it. He’s been waiting long enough."

Each step toward the office door feels heavier than the last until we arrive. My mother pushes the door open, announcing my arrival. "Alpha Whitlock, she’s here."

Alpha Whitlock is stiff behind his desk. My father stands nearby, his expression unreadable. But it’s the unfamiliar man standing beside them who steals all my attention. My stomach drops.

It’s him—the man from earlier. The one who pinned me against the tree.

Shock hits me like a physical blow, making it hard to even breathe.

Alpha Whitlock clears his throat awkwardly. "Freya… meet Alpha Alistair of Red Moon. Your father and I have spoken to him, and we proposed that you take Sable’s place in the agreement."

He hesitates, then adds, "But… that may no longer be necessary."

I blink, confused. "I don’t understand."

Alpha Whitlock sighs heavily. "Alpha Alistair refused the arrangement."

Before he can say more, Alistair raises a hand, and the room falls silent. He steps forward, his storm-gray eyes never leaving mine. Memories of our earlier confrontation flood my brain, leaving me rooted to the spot.

When he speaks, his voice is controlled, glacial. "I’ll take her."

The finality of his words crashes down on me harder than I can withstand. My throat tightens painfully, and my breath comes shallow and quick. No words come to me—there’s nothing I can even think to say.

All I can do is stare into those unrelenting gray eyes, feeling the last threads of hope unravel inside me.

It’s over.