The Alpha's Exiled Mate Chapter 139

Freya’s POV

Heads turned in our direction, curious eyes taking in the confrontation. I could smell the sudden spike of interest and wariness from the other wolves in the vicinity.

"I don't want any trouble," I said quietly, taking a step toward the exit. "I'm just leaving."

The Beta moved to block my path, his stance aggressive. "Leaving? After what your family did to our pack? After what you just did to Miss Brooks?" His voice grew louder with each accusation. "The Rileys were traitors who betrayed our Alpha, and now you're back, causing trouble again!"

More wolves were gathering now, drawn by the commotion. I could see the recognition in their eyes as they connected my face to the stories they'd heard about the disgraced Riley family.

"My family never betrayed anyone," I said, struggling to keep my voice steady. "And I had nothing to do with what happened to Kaelin Brooks."

"Liar!" the Beta snarled, his eyes flashing gold. "Everyone knows the Rileys sold pack secrets to the other pack. Everyone knows you're just like your treacherous parents!"

The accusation burned like acid. My family had been many things, but never traitors. Never.

"You don't know what you're talking about," I said, my own anger rising to match his. "My family was loyal to Moon Bay until the day they disappeared."

"Disappeared?" The Beta laughed harshly. "Is that what you tell yourself? Let me tell you, they were exiled by the Alpha, leaving you to face the consequences!"

A murmur of agreement rippled through the growing crowd. I glanced around, realizing with mounting dread that I was surrounded. At least a dozen wolves had formed a loose circle around us, their expressions ranging from curious to openly hostile.

"The only reason you're walking free is because Alpha Thorne is too merciful," another voice called out—a female this time, her lip curled in disgust. "If it were up to me, you'd still be rotting in the Wilds."

"Or wearing silver in the Shadow District," someone else added.

The Beta who had started it all stepped closer, invading my personal space. I could smell his aggression, sharp and pungent.

"Show some respect," he growled. "Kneel and acknowledge your place, traitor."

I stiffened, my wolf rising to the surface despite the silver mark that should have suppressed it. "I don't kneel to anyone but the Alpha."

It was the wrong thing to say. The Beta's face contorted with rage. "You think you're special? You think being Alpha Thorne's charity case puts you above the rest of us?"

He reached out suddenly, grabbing my arm with enough force to bruise. I jerked away instinctively, but his grip was like iron.

"I said kneel," he repeated, pushing down on my shoulder.

I resisted, my wolf howling with defiance despite the burning pain from my silver mark. "Let go of me."

Instead of releasing me, he shoved me hard, sending me stumbling backward. I managed to keep my footing, but just barely. The circle of onlookers had tightened, some of them beginning to show signs of their wolves—elongated canines, golden eyes, sharpened nails.

"The traitor needs to be taught a lesson," someone called out.

"Show her what happens to wolves who betray the pack," another agreed.

I backed up, trying to find an escape route, but there was nowhere to go. The crowd had enclosed me completely.

A young wolf—barely more than a teenager—picked up a decorative stone from a nearby planter and hurled it at me. It struck my temple with surprising force, sending a shock of pain through my skull. I felt warm blood trickle down the side of my face.

The sight of blood seemed to excite the crowd. More wolves began to pick up small objects—pens, coins, anything they could find—and throw them in my direction. I raised my arms to protect my face, a memory flashing through my mind: standing in the Moon Crescent Court three years ago, listening to Thorne pronounce my sentence of exile while the gallery hurled insults and threats.

History was repeating itself, but this time, Thorne wasn't here to maintain order. This time, I was truly alone.

A sharp pain in my shoulder told me another projectile had found its mark. I scanned the crowd desperately, looking for anyone who might help—a security guard, a doctor, even just a sympathetic face. But all I saw was hostility and judgment.

Where are you, Thorne? The thought came unbidden, a desperate plea from a part of me I didn't want to acknowledge. Even now, after everything, some foolish corner of my heart still believed he might protect me.

The elevator doors at the far end of the lobby slid open, and for a split second, my heart leaped with hope. But it wasn't Thorne who emerged—it was a group of medical staff, looking alarmed at the scene unfolding in their lobby.

And behind them, stepping out more slowly, was a face I hadn't seen in years. A face I'd never expected to see again.

Tall and lean, with dark hair and intelligent eyes, he looked almost the same as he had three years ago—except for the new lines around his eyes and the more serious set to his mouth. He wore the uniform of a medical professional, but I would have recognized him anywhere.

Miles. Miles Everett. My friend from before... from before everything fell apart.

His eyes widened as he took in the scene, then narrowed when they landed on me. Recognition, shock, and something unreadable flashed across his face.

Before I could process what was happening, he was moving through the crowd, his Beta status and medical uniform causing wolves to step aside.

"Freya?" he said, his voice a mixture of disbelief and concern. He reached for my arm, his fingers wrapping around my wrist in a gesture that was both familiar and strange after so long.

I stared at him, my mind struggling to reconcile the past with the present. "Miles? I..."

The crowd had gone quiet, uncertain how to respond to this unexpected development. The Beta who had started the confrontation looked between us, confusion evident on his face.

Miles straightened, his professional demeanor falling into place. "I suggest you all disperse before security arrives. Harassing patients or visitors is grounds for permanent banning from this facility."

His calm authority seemed to take some of the energy out of the mob. Wolves began to back away, though their expressions remained hostile.

I couldn't bear it—the stares, the hostility, and now the shock of seeing Miles again after all this time. With a sharp tug, I pulled my wrist from his grasp.

"Freya, wait—" he began, but I was already moving, pushing through the thinning crowd toward the exit.

"Leave me alone," I said, not looking back. "All of you, just leave me alone."