A Warrior Luna's Awakening (Freya and Caelum) novel Chapter 410

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Chapter 410

Third Person’s POV

Everett’s pupils contracted violently, his breath hitching as disbelief crashed through him like a physical blow.

“What?” he demanded hoarsely. “Say that again. What was her name?’

Smith hesitated for half a heartbeat, then answered carefully, sensing the shift in the Alpha’s aura.

“Freya. Freya Thorne. She was originally a specialist in aerial drone warfare with the Iron Fang Recon Unit. After she retired from active service, she and her former mate founded SkyVex Armaments. I worked with her before-her expertise in autonomous flight systems is unmatched, especially when it comes to—”

The rest of Smith’s words dissolved into meaningless noise.

Everett no longer heard him.

In his mind, Freya’s face surfaced with brutal clarity-calm eyes, steady spine, that quiet resilience that reminded him far too much of someone else. Someone long buried beneath blood and regret.

If… if that necklace truly belonged to Freya’s mother-

Then by age alone, by the timeline he had reconstructed and revised a thousand times over-

Freya’s mother could only be one person.

The sister he had searched for across packs, across borders, across decades of war.

His lost littermate.

And if that were true…

Then Parker’s resemblance was no coincidence.

Why that child’s presence had unsettled him so deeply. Why the bond felt instinctive, primal, unmistakable.

Because Parker was blood.

Not merely pack.

Blood of his blood.

“My sister…” Everett whispered.

For the first time in decades, hope-raw and savage-surged through his chest. His wolf howled, clawing at his ribcage.

Had fate finally taken pity on him?

Had the Moon finally answered his prayers?

But the hope froze mid-breath.

Everett’s expression shattered.

Because memory came roaring back, sharp as silver.

He had ordered an investigation on Freya once. Years ago. Standard intelligence sweep, nothing more-or so he had told himself.

And in that file-

He had read the name.

Her mother.

Myra.

Status: Killed in action.

Location: Overseas peacekeeping operation.

Time: Three years prior.

Myra…

His knees weakened.

“Myra…” he murmured again, tasting the name like poison.

Once, long ago, he had called his sister that in jest.

But her true name-her cubhood name-

Was Naya.

And suddenly everything aligned with horrifying precision.

The surname carved into the necklace.

The old sigil etched in fading silver.

The first mark of the Stormveil bloodline.

The symbol of the Thorne matriarchs.

The name “Myra” had been her registered identity after entering the Iron Fang Recon Unit. A name she took to sever ties, to survive.

And he had missed it.

He had looked directly at the truth-

And failed to see it.

The necklace bore the mark of her birth name.

The way she had always signed her letters to him.

A single glyph.

A promise.

Everett staggered.

So… she was gone?

His sister-his Naya-had died without him ever finding her?

So that day, when his grip slipped and her hand vanished into smoke and chaos—

That had been the last time.

The final time.

A sharp, violent pain ripped through his chest.

‘-kh!”

A mouthful of darkened blood spilled from Everett’s lips, splattering against the marble floor.

The Alpha of the Williams Family-once unshakable, once feared across the Capital-swayed as his knees buckled.

Hands rushed to steady him.

“Everett!”

“Someone call for a healer-now!”

“Get medical staff in here!”

Voices overlapped, panicked and distant.

Everett’s vision blurred, the edges darkening. Smoke alarms wailed somewhere beyond the hall, mingling with the distant thunder of emergency response teams.