A Warrior Luna's Awakening (Freya and Caelum) novel Chapter 396

**Shadows of Our Love**

**Chapter 396**

Freya stood still, the weight of Lana’s words hanging in the air like a thick fog.

Perhaps, just perhaps, Lana was onto something.

Maybe it was time for her to cease this frantic escape from the truth that had been gnawing at her insides for weeks on end.

If she couldn’t let go of Silas, then what did that say about her?

Before she could delve deeper into that unsettling thought, Lana’s voice broke through the haze of her contemplation, bright and lively.

“Oh, by the way! In just two days, Whitmore Industries is hosting their annual gathering. You absolutely must prepare and accompany me!”

Freya blinked in surprise, her mind struggling to grasp the sudden shift in conversation. “Annual gathering?”

“Exactly,” Lana replied, leaning casually against her desk, her posture relaxed yet purposeful. “Remember that three-way procurement bidding we discussed? They confirmed it today—SkyVex Armaments won the contract. They always invite their suppliers to this annual celebration, and guess what? The invitation arrived earlier than expected.”

A smile graced Lana’s lips, but her eyes glinted with an underlying intention, a gentle push toward clarity.

“You can use these next few days to really think things through.”

Lana understood Freya better than anyone else. She recognized the admiration Freya held for Kade, a deep respect for him as a fellow warrior from the Iron Fang Recon Unit. Yet, she also sensed that it was a different kind of connection that Freya felt with Silas—one that burrowed deep into her very being, refusing to let go.

“Alright,” Freya replied softly, the decision settling comfortably within her. “I’ll go with you.”

“Wonderful! Then we can pick out your dress together. What about jewelry?” Lana asked, her excitement palpable.

“Just the dress, please. I already have my jewelry,” Freya responded, a hint of finality in her tone.

“Perfect!”

Later that evening, as the world outside her window dimmed into twilight, Freya returned to her room and opened the small, hidden vault beneath her bed. Inside lay a box she rarely dared to touch.

Within its confines rested her mother’s blood-red ruby necklace.

Myra’s necklace.

A tangible piece of her mother’s existence, forever etched in both gemstone and memory.

The ruby gleamed under the soft light, a reminder of her mother’s strength and warmth.

Myra had often recounted how she wore this necklace even during the darkest days of her childhood, when she was lost and alone, a frightened three-year-old who could barely utter her own name. The heavy clothes she wore back then had concealed the precious necklace, a twist of fate that allowed her to keep it safe.

The chain bore a single character, so delicately engraved that it could easily be overlooked: Myra’s family mark from before her adoption. She only remembered being called “Naya,” a name her adoptive parents had changed to Myra when they welcomed her into their lives.

As Myra and Arthur grew, they became inseparable—packmates who blossomed into soulmates. The necklace remained with her throughout her life, through childhood joys, the trials of adulthood, and the battles that shaped her. It bore witness to her laughter, her tears, her losses, and her rebirth. Until that fateful winter in a distant land, when she had to sacrifice it for medicine and food to save fifty orphaned souls.

It was only after Myra’s passing that the necklace found its way back to Freya.

Now, as she held it close, Freya felt her mother’s spirit envelop her, a warm embrace that offered comfort and solace.

If Myra were still alive…

How would she perceive Silas Whitmore?

What words would she offer Freya now, as her daughter stood on shaky ground, torn between the desire to move forward and the fear of retreating?

“Mom…” Freya murmured, her fingers tracing the cool surface of the ruby. “I think I have genuine feelings for Silas. But I’m just… not sure I possess the confidence anymore.”

Deep down, she struggled with self-doubt.

“When people are struggling, they need a helping hand,” Lana added, her voice steady and warm. “You once helped me out of a dark place. It’s only fair that I extend the same support to you now.”

His eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Thank you… truly.”

After having him complete the necessary onboarding forms, Lana sent him off with her secretary. The moment they departed, she picked up the phone to contact the finance department.

“Transfer three hundred thousand to the account he provided,” she instructed firmly.

A little extra, just in case.

Freya entered Lana’s office just as she finished the call, curiosity piqued.

“Who are you sending money to?” Freya inquired casually, her tone light.

“Duke,” Lana replied, her demeanor shifting to one of business. “An old friend. He’ll be joining the company. Anyway, let’s go find some dresses for the Whitmore celebration.”

“Alright,” Freya agreed, though she was unprepared for what awaited them.

The styling salon they entered was a realm of brightness and luxury, infused with the soothing scent of lavender oils and the elegance of polished marble. Gowns of exquisite design hung from crystal racks, each one shimmering under the soft glow of the chandeliers, reminiscent of moonlit frost.

And then, amidst the glamour, Freya spotted them.

Her brother, Eric Thorne.

And beside him—Jenny Williams.

Jenny clung to Parker Williams’s arm with an air of entitlement, her chin tilted high as she demanded that the boutique present their most opulent gowns.

The sight struck Freya like a bitter gust of winter wind sweeping across the Bloodmoon borders, leaving her momentarily breathless.

Lana exhaled softly beside her, instantly recognizing the brewing trouble.