The Alpha's Exiled Mate Chapter 140

Freya's POV

After rushing out of the hospital entrance, I ran a long distance until no one noticed me anymore. I wiped the blood from my temple with my sleeve and continued walking aimlessly.

The night air carried a thousand scents as I walked through the Moon Light District, each one telling a different story. The medicinal tang of the hospital still clung to my clothes, mixing with the rich perfumes of the high-end shops and the subtle aroma of fallen leaves that lined the elegant streets. I had been walking for almost an hour, putting as much distance as possible between myself and that horrible confrontation at the hospital.

My mind kept replaying Miles Everett's shocked expression when he recognized me. How long had it been since I'd seen that face? Three years since my exile, but our friendship had ended before that—right after I'd announced my engagement to Thorne Grey.

The memory rose unbidden, as clear as if it had happened yesterday rather than three years ago.

The Riley family's back garden in Moon Light Woods. Late spring, the roses in full bloom. Miles stood beside me, his doctor's hands gentle as he examined the small cut on my arm from a thorn.

"You're lucky it wasn't deeper," he said, his voice carrying that hint of concern he'd had since we were pups. "Your healing is fast enough this won't even leave a mark."

I smiled, watching as he applied a small bandage anyway—always thorough, always caring. The perfect Beta doctor.

"I need to tell you something," I said, unable to contain my excitement any longer. "I'm getting engaged. To Thorne Grey."

His hands froze on my arm. I could smell his shock—a sharp, bitter note cutting through his usual calming scent.

"Thorne Grey?" he repeated, his voice carefully neutral. "The Alpha's son? The one who barely acknowledges your existence when you're in the same room?"

I pulled my arm away, stung by his reaction. "He's reserved, that's all. He'll come around."

Miles's expression softened, but I could see the doubt in his eyes. "Freya, he doesn't even like you."

"That's not true," I protested, though a tiny voice inside me whispered that perhaps Miles wasn't entirely wrong. "He's just... focused on his responsibilities. Alpha's burden weighed heavily on him."

"And you think he'll suddenly change once you're engaged?" Miles shook his head. "People don't work that way. Wolves certainly don't."

"You've always been prejudiced against him," I accused, unwilling to hear his doubts when I'd finally achieved what I'd wanted for so long.

"I'm concerned for you," he corrected gently. "I've known you since we were pups, Freya. The Everetts and the Rileys have been pack allies for generations. I just want you to be happy."

The memory faded as I turned down a quieter street, the expensive boutiques giving way to small cafes now closed for the night. Miles had been right, of course. Thorne never did "come around."

The Everett family had been allies with the Rileys for as long as anyone could remember. Our territories adjoined in the Moon Light Grounds, and we had hunted together during full moons for generations. Miles had shown signs of the healing gift early, unusual for a male wolf. By twelve, he could ease pain with a touch; by sixteen, he could accelerate healing in minor wounds.

During those full moon hunts, Miles had often positioned himself between me and my brother Ethan's roughhousing. Ethan had never hurt me intentionally, but as the Riley heir, he was expected to be dominant and strong. Sometimes he forgot his own strength when playing. Miles never did.

After I announced my engagement to Thorne, Miles had come to see me one more time. The conversation had been brief and strained. A week later, the entire Everett family had migrated to another territory. I'd been too caught up in wedding preparations to give it much thought at the time.

Now, years later, I could finally recognize what I'd been too blind to see then: Miles had loved me. Not as a childhood friend or as a pack ally, but as a wolf loves his potential mate. And I, foolishly fixated on Thorne Grey, had never noticed.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, startling me from my thoughts. The screen showed an unknown number, but I recognized it immediately—Jasper Stone had called me from this number before.

"Hello?" I answered cautiously, glancing around the empty street.

"Freya." Jasper's voice was smooth, confident as always. "I thought I might catch you alone tonight."

"What do you want, Jasper?" My tone was wearier than I intended.

"I heard about the... incident at the hospital. Word travels fast in our circles." There was a pause. "I'm guessing you're reconsidering our competition arrangement?"

I sighed, leaning against a decorative lamppost. "There's nothing to reconsider. It's over. Kaelin has Grey Moon Pack's full support, and I'm not going to fight a battle I can't win."

"Can't? Or won't?" His challenge was gentle but pointed. "The Freya Riley I've come to know doesn't seem like the type to surrender so easily."

"The Freya Riley you know is exhausted," I replied. "And realistic. What's the point? Thorne has made his choice. His statement supporting Kaelin made that abundantly clear."

There was a moment of silence, then Jasper asked, "Where are you now?"

I described my location without being too obvious, pretending to window-shop at a closed boutique.

"Stay there. I'm five minutes away." The line went dead.

Four minutes later, a sleek black car pulled up alongside me. The window rolled down to reveal Jasper Stone's sharp features illuminated by the dashboard lights.

"Need a ride?" he asked, his casual tone belying the alertness in his eyes.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked, still hesitating.

"Just get in the car, Freya." His voice dropped lower, an Alpha's command entering his tone. "I have something to talk to you personally."

I slipped into the passenger seat, immediately enveloped in Jasper's strong Alpha scent—pine, leather, and something distinctly predatory.

As the car pulled away, Jasper's eyes flicked to my temple, where dried blood still matted my hair from the stone that had hit me at the hospital.

"You're hurt," he said, frowning as he reached out to gently turn my face toward the light.

I pulled back slightly. "It's nothing. Wolf healing, remember? It'll be gone by morning."

His nostrils flared slightly as he assessed the wound. "Head wounds always bleed more dramatically than they should. Still, I don't like seeing you injured."

"What are you going to discuss with me?" I asked, changing the subject.