A Warrior Luna's Awakening (Freya and Caelum) novel Chapter 403

**Trapped in You by Morrison Lee: Shadows of Our Love 403**
**Chapter 403**

**Third Person’s POV**

Victor’s gaze lingered on Lana, a look in his eyes that should never have been directed her way.

It was a quiet, smoldering devotion that ignited an unspoken promise, one that made it hard to fathom that, just a year down the line, he would willingly let her slip from his grasp. And certainly, not in the presence of the elite pack members gathered in the grand hall, where his words danced dangerously close to the line separating a vow from a threat.

Across the bustling expanse of the Skyspire Convention Dome, Freya found herself abruptly yanked from her reverie by a voice that sliced through the ambient music like a knife.

“Miss Thorne. It’s been a long time.”

She turned, her expression a careful blend of politeness and distance, as she recognized the man advancing toward her, glass in hand. Smith. The regional head of one of the largest transnational tech conglomerates. Memories of negotiating drone technology proposals with him while under Caelum Grafton at SilverTech Forgeworks flooded her mind.

“Mr. Smith,” she replied, her tone steady. “Indeed, it has been quite a while.”

Smith flashed a disarming smile that could easily charm anyone. “I heard you left SilverTech. I’ve been hoping to bring you onto my team. Would you be interested in joining us?”

Freya felt a slight tightening in her chest. “I appreciate the offer,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “But I’ve already joined SkyVex Armaments.”

Lana, ever the diplomat, stepped in with a smile that radiated warmth. “Freya is our head of advanced R&D,” she interjected smoothly. “If there’s a chance in the future, I hope SkyVex and your company can collaborate.”

Smith’s gaze lingered on Freya, a subtle appraisal in his eyes as he studied her posture, the confidence radiating from her, and the sharpness of her mind. “Miss Thorne, are you quite sure? You would have greater opportunities with me.”

Freya met his gaze, unwavering. “I believe in what we’re building at SkyVex. My aim is to create something powerful alongside my team… and with my friends.”

“A shame,” Smith replied lightly, though a flicker of disappointment crossed his features. “But perhaps we can still find a way to work together. Actually—could we talk for a moment? I’m still very interested in the unmanned aerial combat project you once presented to me.”

“Of course,” she agreed, her mind already shifting gears into the technical details.

As they began delving into specifications and designs, a pair of sharply narrowed eyes tracked their every move from across the hall.

“She’s right there,” Vaughn murmured, nudging the figure beside him with his elbow. “And yet you’re pretending you don’t see her?”

Silas remained silent, his demeanor stoic, like a statue carved from iron—expression detached, posture cold. But his eyes betrayed a different story, flicking toward Freya time and time again, unable to look away.

Vaughn snorted, amusement lacing his tone. “You’re not being subtle, brother. The man chatting with Freya? That’s Smith. A notoriously icy bastard. But look at him—he’s practically glowing with warmth around her. Think he’s got a thing for her?”

Silas’s jaw tightened, a muscle twitching beneath the surface.

Women like Freya—quiet, yet resilient on the outside—held a blinding allure the longer one looked. Their strength was not loud but wrapped around you like a warm embrace before you even realized you’d fallen. It was only natural that other men would notice her, be drawn to her.

Just as he once had.

Just as Kade Blackridge had been.

And now… Smith.

Silas had made a choice to keep his distance. He had chosen to step away from her orbit, and in doing so, he recognized she had every right to seek someone else.

That was the logical path.

But the wolf within him scoffed at logic.

A dangerous heat ignited in his chest, a feral jealousy that spread unchecked like wildfire through dry brush, consuming his rational thoughts. His control, usually impeccable, began to fray with each passing moment.

He watched as Smith leaned closer to Freya, their bodies almost touching.

He watched the two raise their glasses in a toast.

He watched the man lower his head, too near her throat, too close to the soft pulse where an Alpha’s bond once might have rested—

CRACK.

He was focused solely on Freya.

Lana’s brows furrowed in realization. It clicked into place.

He’s been watching her this whole time.

Freya entered the empty lounge, her heart racing as she grabbed several cleansing wipes from the counter. The remnants of wine clung to her arm and the curve of her neck, cooling against her skin like a chilling reminder of the moment. She cleaned herself in silence, the faint hum of distant music vibrating through the walls, a stark contrast to the storm brewing outside.

Just as she tossed the last used wipe aside—

A knock echoed through the quiet room.

Lana must have returned with the dress.

Freya crossed the room, her heart fluttering with anticipation, and pulled the door open—

Only to find Silas standing there, his presence commanding and intense.

She froze, words caught in her throat. “You… what are you—”

But he didn’t allow her to finish.

In an instant, he stepped forward, seized her wrist with a firm grip, and pushed her back, pinning her against the corner wall. The door slammed shut behind him, sealing them away from the outside world.

His breath was ragged, his eyes wild with an emotion she couldn’t quite decipher.

“Why do you keep appearing in front of me?” he growled, his voice low and laced with tension. “Didn’t I tell you…?”

He leaned in, their foreheads nearly touching, the Alpha aura of the Ironclad Coalition radiating off him in waves—dark, volcanic, barely contained.

“You should stay as far away from me as possible.”