Freya answered with a deep breath.

"What do you want?"

"Get in the car, Freya," Niklaus commanded, his voice glacial. "This childish game ends now."

"Game?" She laughed bitterly. "Is that what you think this is?"

"You've made your point. Now it's time to come home."

"That's not my home anymore." Freya's jaw clenched.

"You have two options," Niklaus continued as if she hadn't spoken. "Either Daniel brings you back to the pack house where you belong, or you can try surviving without any of our resources. Your choice."

"Our resources?" Freya repeated incredulously. "You mean the resources you're cutting me off from? The credit cards you've frozen? The hotel room you just had me evicted from?"

"You didn't think I'd let you use my money to fund your little rebellion, did you?"

His voice dripped with smugness. "Be realistic, Freya. Where will you go? What will you do? You've been playing Luna for three years--you have no job, no income."

Anger flared hot in Freya's chest. "You think I'm completely dependent on you? That I can't survive without your money or protection?"

"I think you're being stubborn and irrational," Niklaus said, his voice hardening. "Either you come home willingly, or I'll come get you myself."

"Try it," she challenged, ending the call before he could respond.

Daniel fidgeted awkwardly beside the car. "Luna Freya, please. The Alpha is only concerned for your safety."

"No, Daniel." Freya forced a tight smile. "And I'm not Luna Freya anymore. Tell your Alpha that from now on, I'm just Freya Gilbert."

She turned and walked away.

Her phone buzzed with text messages from Niklaus, each more threatening than the last.

Ignoring them, she checked her missed calls. Three were from Fiona, her best friend and owner of Azure Gallery.

"Where the hell have you been?" Fiona asked straight out. "I've been trying to reach you all night!"

"It's a long story," Freya sighed, flagging down a taxi.

"Can I crash at your place?" Freya asked. "For a while. Niklaus got me kicked out of my hotel and I doubt any other hotel in the city will take me."

"What a petty asshole," Fiona growled. "Of course you can stay. But that's not why I called."

"What's up?" Freya asked curiously.

"Good news. Huge news," Fiona said mysteriously. "We're definitely celebrating when you get here."

Freya hung up and got in the cab. Daniel's car followed her the entire way, but she ignored it.

Getting out, she grabbed her suitcase from the trunk and accidentally cut her hand on a sharp edge.

It bled but wasn't serious.

Fiona lived on the 17th floor. Knowing she was coming, she'd left the door open.

When Freya walked in with her suitcase, Fiona jumped--she hadn't mentioned luggage on the phone.

She looked like a runaway.

Fiona took the suitcase from her.

"If you'd told me about the luggage, I could've helped you carry it up... Oh my god, what happened to your hand?"

Seeing Fiona frantically searching for a first aid kit, Freya stopped her. "It's fine. It'll heal fast."

"Your hands are made of gold! Can't you be more careful? Pianists practically keep their hands in safety deposit boxes."

Freya laughed despite everything. The darkness of the past few days lifted a little. "This won't affect anything."

After settling in, Freya sat on Fiona's couch. "So what's this big news you couldn't tell me over the phone?"

Fiona pulled a bottle of red wine from the fridge and poured two glasses. "First, let's celebrate you getting out of that mess!"

They clinked glasses and Freya took a sip. Those three years as contract Luna had been exhausting.

Fiona sat beside Freya. "Edward Bravy was in the gallery today."

Freya sat up straighter. "Edward Bravy? The Edward Bravy? Head of Bravy Studios?"

"The very same," Fiona confirmed, excitement evident in her voice. "He was looking at your paintings, the ones under the name 'F', and he was absolutely blown away. Kept asking who the artist was, said he'd been trying to track you down for years."

"What did you tell him?" Freya asked, her heart racing.

"Nothing yet. I said I'd try to reach the artist, but wanted to talk to you first. Freya, he wants to offer you a position at his studio. This is huge!"

A position at Bravy Studios. Every serious artist dreamed of working there--for the resources, mentorship, exposure to the right collectors and critics. It was everything Freya had wanted before her life had been derailed by debt and desperation.

"Did he leave his contact information?" Freya asked, hardly daring to hope.

"Better. He's coming back Thursday afternoon. Said he'd wait all day if necessary." Fiona paused. "This could be your ticket to a whole new life, Frey. A life where you don't need Alpha Niklaus."

Independence, freedom--the chance to be valued for her talent rather than her status as an Alpha's mate.

Vicki stirred inside her. "Maybe this is your chance."

"Yes," Freya murmured. "I think it is."

"I'll be there," Freya promised. "What time?"

"Two o'clock. And Frey? Wear something fabulous. This is your moment."

***

Outside the hospital room, Niklaus read Daniel's text message with growing disbelief.

[Luna Freya didn't return home. She's staying at a friend's place.]

He had frozen her cards.

He had made sure no hotel in the city would take her.

She was supposed to have nowhere else to go.

A friend?

Niklaus stared at his phone. Freya had friends? In three years of marriage, she'd never mentioned anyone. Male or female?

His wolf Flex whined miserably in his mind. Their mate was rejecting them, and lately Flex had been growing more despondent by the day.

Niklaus immediately texted his beta, Dale, find out whose place she's staying at. Now.

"Niklaus?"

A soft voice called from the hospital room. He turned to see Rebekah looking at him with worried eyes.

"Is everything okay? You look upset." She bit her lip nervously. "Is Freya angry that you've been here with me? The doctor says I'll be discharged soon."

"No," Niklaus said quickly. "Just work stuff."

He cleared his throat. "When is your manager coming to look after you?"

"Hannah should be here any minute."

Rebekah shifted closer to him, her voice trembling. "What if I can never dance again?"

Guilt crashed over him. She'd gotten hurt trying to save Freya. Maybe she'd never dance again because of that.

"Don't worry about it," he said softly. "Whatever you want to do, my company can help you."

"Thank you so much." Rebekah moved to hug him.

Niklaus went rigid but didn't push her away.

Just then, Hannah walked in.

"Am I interrupting something?" Hannah asked playfully.

Rebekah blushed and let go of his arm.

"I should go," Niklaus said immediately, stepping back.

As he reached the door, his phone buzzed. A text from Beta Dale.

[Luna Freya's staying with Fiona Martinez, owner of Azure Gallery. ]

Niklaus stopped in his tracks. Azure Gallery? Why did that name sound familiar?

Freya sat cross-legged on Fiona's couch, sketching idly in her notebook. Fiona handed her a cup of coffee.

A sudden sharp pain lanced through her head, making her gasp.

Luna Freya! Please come quickly! Margaret has collapsed! The doctors are with her but she's asking for you!

The mind-link was so urgent and frantic that it cut through all her mental barriers.

"What's wrong?" Fiona asked, alarmed by Freya's sudden reaction.

"It's Margaret," Freya said, already on her feet. "She's collapsed."

Vicki whined anxiously inside her. "You need to go. Whatever happened between you and Niklaus, Margaret has always been kind to you."

"I know," Freya whispered back.

"Margaret? Your mother-in-law?" Fiona asked. "Is she sick?"

"I don't know. I need to go." Freya grabbed her purse, her mind racing. "Can I borrow your car?"

Fiona nodded, tossing her the keys. "Call me if you need anything."

Freya burst through the front door of the Whitecrown Pack House, her heart pounding wildly. Several pack members looked up in surprise as she rushed past.

"Where is she?" she asked the first person she recognized.

"In the living room," the woman replied, pointing.

Freya ran down the hallway, bracing herself for the worst. She pushed open the double doors and froze.

Margaret Lockwood sat comfortably on the sofa, a teacup in her perfectly steady hands. Her complexion was rosy and healthy.

"Freya, darling!" Margaret exclaimed, setting down her cup with a delighted smile. "You came!"

Freya stood frozen, confusion and anger flickering across her face. "You're not sick?"

"Sick? Of course not," Margaret replied cheerfully. "Why would you think that?"

"I got a mind-link saying you'd collapsed," Freya said through gritted teeth. "That doctors were with you."

Margaret's face cleared. "Oh! That must have been Olivia being dramatic. I just mentioned feeling a bit faint earlier because I was worried about you."

Freya's shoulders slumped with relief, then tensed with irritation. "Was this Niklaus's idea? Getting me back here like this?"

"Niklaus?" Margaret looked genuinely confused. "He's been at work all day." She patted the sofa. "Come sit, dear. I've missed you."

Reluctantly, Freya sat. "I can't stay long."

"Where have you been?" Margaret asked, worry in her eyes. "I was so concerned. Niklaus said you needed space. What's happened?"

The genuine concern made Freya's resolve waver. Margaret had always been kind, had welcomed her into the pack when others looked down on her for being an outsider.

"Things between Niklaus and me are... complicated," Freya said carefully.

"How so? You're mates. What's complicated about that?" Margaret asked.

Freya sighed, knowing she couldn't tell the whole truth without revealing the contract marriage. "I don't think Niklaus wants to be with me. Not really. I think he's just... stuck with me because of our mate bond."

Margaret's eyebrows shot up. "That's nonsense!"

"Is it?" Freya countered. "For three years, he's barely acknowledged me except when he needed something. He's never once told me he loves me. Never once made me feel like I was anything more than an obligation."

"Oh, Freya." Margaret reached for her hand. "My son isn't expressive. He takes after his father that way. Mikael hardly said ten romantic words to me in our entire marriage, but I never doubted he loved me."

"It's more than that," Freya insisted. "I'm not what he wanted. I've always known that."

Margaret's face softened. "The Moon Goddess doesn't make mistakes, Freya. If she made you two mates, it's because you're perfect for each other."

Freya bit back a bitter laugh. If only Margaret knew how their mating had really started--with one night and a contract drawn up by lawyers.

"Sometimes I think even the Moon Goddess gets it wrong," she said, standing up. "I should go."

"No, please," Margaret said quickly, grabbing her wrist. "I haven't been entirely honest with you. The doctors were here yesterday. My heart... it's not as strong as it used to be."

Freya froze. "What?"

"They've advised me to avoid stress," Margaret continued, her voice trembling slightly. "And knowing my son and his mate are separating... that would be very stressful indeed."

Freya couldn't tell Margaret about the divorce, about severing their mate bond.

Guilt crashed over Freya.

"I'll stay for dinner," she conceded reluctantly. "But then I need to go back to my friend's place."

Relief washed over Margaret's face. "Thank you, dear. That's all I ask."

Hours later, Freya sat at the dining table, pushing food around her plate. Margaret had kept up a steady stream of conversation about pack business. Niklaus hadn't come home for dinner. Freya wondered if the company was keeping him busy, and if he was working too hard.

She immediately chastised herself for worrying about him. He was unreasonable and controlling. He didn't deserve her concern.

After dinner, Freya went upstairs to rest. Opening the door to the master bedroom, she was struck by how unchanged it was. Her small trinkets still sat on the vanity. Her books remained stacked on the nightstand. It was as if she'd never left.

The door opened behind her, and Niklaus walked in. He froze when he saw her, surprise flashing across his handsome face before it settled into a composed mask. His tall frame filled the doorway, his hair slightly disheveled.

Deep inside, he felt a surge of satisfaction. She had come back. His strategy of freezing her assets had worked after all. Still, anger simmered at her rebellion.

"Good evening," Freya said politely, keeping her distance. "I'm only here because Margaret asked me to stay. I'll be leaving tomorrow."

Niklaus frowned, moving closer to her. "Leaving? Where do you think you're going?"

He towered over her, his broad shoulders blocking the light from the hallway. His scent mixed with another flowery scent that didn't belong to him.

Freya felt a burning, twisting knot in her stomach. Rebekah's perfume. He'd been with her.

Was that why he came home so late? Had he been at the hospital taking care of Rebekah all this time?

Ignoring Freya's silence, Niklaus reached for his shirt buttons and loosened his tie. He spread his arms, waiting--expecting her to help him undress just as she had done countless times before.

Freya stepped back, her face twisting with disgust. "Your smell makes me sick. Stay away from me."

Niklaus stared at Freya, utterly stunned. Three years of marriage, and she had never dared speak to him like this before. She had always been the perfect Luna. Dutiful and polite.

"What did you just say?" he asked. His voice was dangerously low.

Freya crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. Her heart hammered against her ribs, but she refused to back down.

"I said your smell makes me sick."

Even in the hospital, Rebekah hadn't given up her luxurious lifestyle, filling her entire room with citrus-scented aromatherapy. Niklaus didn't understand Rebekah's behavior, but she insisted it helped stabilize her emotions, so he'd stopped questioning it. he had no idea this was Rebekah's deliberate provocation against Freya.

His jaw clenched like a steel trap. "I was at the hospital."

"For hours? Does comforting her require you to bathe in her perfume?" Freya raised an eyebrow with cutting sarcasm. "Or were you doing more than just comforting?"

Niklaus took a menacing step forward. "Watch your fucking tongue."

"Or what?" Freya challenged, refusing to give an inch. "You'll punish me? Our contract is over, Niklaus. I can say whatever I want."

He reached for his shirt buttons with deliberate slowness. He loosened them one by one while staring at her. This action had once made her heart flutter. Now it made her want to scream.

"Help me undress," he ordered. He had said this hundreds of times before.

"Help yourself," Freya replied with ice in her voice. "I'm not your personal servant."

Niklaus's eyes narrowed to slits. He stalked to the bathroom without another word. He slammed the door so hard the frame shook. The sound of the shower running followed moments later.

Freya exhaled shakily. The adrenaline coursing through her body made her tremble.

She opened the closet to find something to sleep in. Then she froze in horror. All her modest pajamas were gone. They had been replaced by silky negligees and sheer nightgowns. One black lace piece had a plunging neckline that would leave nothing to imagination.

A note was pinned to it in Margaret's elegant handwriting: "For a special night."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Freya muttered.

Margaret was desperate for grandchildren. Three years of marriage with no pregnancy had obviously driven her to desperate measures.

In wolf culture, cubs strengthened pack bonds. A child from fated mates would be considered invaluable.

Freya sank onto the edge of the bed, clutching the silky garment in her trembling hands. How many sleepless nights had she spent dreaming of having Niklaus's children? But the cold reality of their loveless arrangement had always crushed those dreams. How could she bring an innocent child into this emotional wasteland?

The bathroom door opened with a bang. Steam poured out like fog. Niklaus emerged with only a towel wrapped dangerously low around his waist. Water droplets clung to his sculpted chest like jewels.

His eyes fell to the negligee clutched in her hands. Then they moved to her face. His expression turned absolutely lethal.

"Planning to seduce me into signing those divorce papers?" he asked. His voice dripped with venom. "Is that your pathetic strategy now?"

"Don't flatter yourself," Freya shot back with equal venom. "Your mother replaced all my sleepwear with these ridiculous things."

She tossed the negligee onto the bed like it was contaminated. She walked to his dresser and pulled out one of his white shirts. She held it up and examined it before nodding in satisfaction.

"This will do perfectly."

Niklaus's eyes went completely black. "Put that back. Now."

"No." Freya turned her back to him and began unbuttoning her blouse with deliberate slowness.

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded.

"Changing. Turn around if you're too shy to watch."

She heard his sharp intake of breath but didn't stop. She slipped her blouse off with fluid grace, then her skirt. She stood in only her underwear. She didn't look to see if he was watching. She didn't need to. She could feel his gaze burning into her skin like fire.

Freya pulled his shirt over her head. It fell to mid-thigh. The shirt covered her adequately but revealed more leg than her usual nightwear. She turned to face him and lifted her chin in pure defiance.

Niklaus's eyes were darker than a moonless night. His pupils were completely dilated. His knuckles were bone-white where he gripped his towel.

"Happy now?" she asked with arctic coolness.

"That's my shirt," he growled like a wild animal.

"And this is still my bedroom too," she countered. "Unless you'd prefer I sleep completely naked?"

His jaw worked frantically as he fought for control. Finally, he turned away abruptly. He grabbed clothes from his dresser and disappeared into the bathroom again.

---

In the kitchen, Margaret hummed cheerfully as she stirred a pot of soup. The rich aroma filled the air--it smelled of chicken broth and mysterious herbs.

"Are you absolutely sure about this, Luna Lockwood?" Olivia asked nervously. She watched her former Luna add a small vial of amber liquid to the soup. "Alpha Niklaus has an incredibly sensitive nose."

"That's exactly why I added extra garlic and herbs," Margaret replied with complete confidence. "It's a family recipe."

"But if he finds out..."

"What's he going to do? Yell at his old mother?" Margaret laughed and continued stirring. "Besides, they're fated mates. Sometimes mates just need a little... chemical encouragement. Their wolves know exactly what they want, but these two are too damn stubborn."

She poured the soup into two elegant bowls.

"If Alpha Niklaus asks, I'll take full responsibility," Margaret assured the nervous servant. "Trust me. By morning, they'll be thanking me profusely."

Olivia still looked terrified. "But Luna Freya seemed so furious..."

"Passion is passion, whether it manifests as anger or love." Margaret winked conspiratorially. "Besides, I raised that stubborn boy. I know exactly what he needs."

She lifted the tray with purpose. "Now, let me deliver this personally."

---

A sharp knock on the bedroom door shattered the tense silence. Freya had been sitting rigidly on one side of the bed. She looked up as Margaret entered with theatrical cheerfulness.

"I thought you two might be hungry," Margaret announced with suspicious brightness. "I made my special chicken soup."

Niklaus was now dressed in pajama pants and a t-shirt. He frowned suspiciously at his mother. "We already had dinner."

"Nonsense. You probably barely touched your food," Margaret said. She set the tray on the nightstand with ceremony. "Besides, this is my famous healing soup. Excellent for... the heart."

"Thank you, Margaret," Freya said with forced politeness.

Margaret beamed like she'd won the lottery. She handed a bowl to each of them. "Now, I want to see you both finish every single drop."

Niklaus sniffed the soup with obvious suspicion. "What exactly did you put in this?"

"Just herbs from my garden," Margaret replied with practiced innocence.

Margaret planted herself at the edge of the bed. She watched them with laser focus. "Well? Drink up while it's hot."

Freya pushed her bowl away. "I can't drink anymore."

Niklaus looked at his mother's expectant expression that clearly said she wouldn't leave until they complied. Then he looked at Freya's stubborn refusal. "I'll drink both."

He lifted the bowl to his lips with a long-suffering sigh and took a substantial gulp. "Satisfied?"

Margaret studied them both carefully. "Now, I expect you two to stay in this room tonight and work things out like adults. I need to know you're making a real effort before I can rest easy."

"Mother," Niklaus began. His tone was pure warning.

Margaret suddenly pressed a hand to her chest. Her expression became dramatically pained. "Please, Niklaus. The doctor said I absolutely must avoid stress. Knowing you two are at each other's throats... it's terrible for my weak heart."

Freya shot Niklaus a look that clearly screamed, See what you're doing to her?

He clenched his jaw so hard it could have cracked teeth but nodded. "Fine. We'll talk."

"Wonderful!" Margaret's recovery was miraculously instantaneous. She headed for the door, then paused with her hand on the knob. "Remember, darlings, there's no problem between fated mates that can't be solved by a good night together."

She closed the door behind her with a knowing smile that could have lit up the room.

Freya immediately turned her back to Niklaus. She switched off the bedside lamp and squeezed her eyes shut, pretending to sleep. The distance between them was wide enough for two more people.

But after what felt like hours, Freya could sense something changing in Niklaus beside her. His breathing was becoming irregular, slightly faster than normal.

"Niklaus?" Freya asked. She noticed the shift in his energy. "Are you okay?"

She turned to look at him and gasped in shock. His eyes were glowing with an unnatural golden light.

Something was very, very wrong.