The Alpha's Exiled Mate Chapter 15

Freya’s POV

The room cleared in seconds, wolves scrambling over each other to reach the door. Only Ryder remained, leaning against the wall with a look of grim satisfaction.

"Not you, Ryder," Thorne said, his voice controlled again but vibrating with tension. "Find Sebastian. Tell him I want these wolves identified and fined. Heavily. For disrespecting pack law."

Ryder nodded and slipped out, closing the door behind him.

Thorne's grip on my arm remained firm. I noticed, distantly, that where his fingers touched my skin, the silver mark beneath them glowed faintly—my exile brand responding to Alpha contact.

"Alpha Thorne," I began, my voice barely audible.

"Silence," he said, the word clipped and precise. He released my arm suddenly, as if touching me burned him. I saw him glance at his fingertips, a slight frown crossing his features as he detected the trace of moon-silver from my brand.

Alone with him in the now-empty VIP room, my wolf's fear intensified. I fought the urge to back away, forcing myself to stand still, head lowered in the proper posture for a lower-ranking wolf before an Alpha.

"Three years ago, you refused to confess in the Crescent Court," Thorne said finally, his voice controlled but edged with something I couldn't identify. "You maintained your innocence despite all evidence. You swore by the Moon Goddess herself."

He paced across the room, his movements those of a predator in a too-small space. "And now I find you on your knees, confessing to crimes for what? A few bills thrown at you like scraps to a dog?"

His contempt stung, but I remained silent, keeping my gaze lowered.

"Answer me, Riley," he demanded.

"Yes, Alpha Thorne," I replied mechanically, my voice rough from the emotions I refused to show.

"Is that all you have to say for yourself?" he pressed, stopping directly in front of me. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, smell his scent—stronger now with his anger. "Where is the wolf who stood in my court and defied me? Who dared to use my name instead of my title? Who looked me in the eye and swore her innocence?"

"She died in the Forgotten Wilds," I answered simply.

Thorne fell silent. I heard him inhale deeply, scenting me, reading the emotions I tried to hide.

"If I acknowledge all my crimes," I said slowly, raising my eyes to meet his for the first time, "if I confess to everything you believe I did... will you tell me if my parents are still alive?"

My voice broke on the last word, the question that had haunted me for three years finally spoken aloud.

Thorne's expression shifted, surprise flickering across his features before he controlled it.

"That's why you were willing to debase yourself?" he asked, his voice softer now. "For information about your parents?"

"And my brother," I added, unable to keep the tremor from my voice. "Please, Alpha Thorne. They were taken while I was in the Silver Shackle Prison. I never got to say goodbye. I don't know where they were sent, which sector of the Wilds they're in... if they're even..."

I couldn't finish the sentence. The possibility that my family might be dead was a wound I couldn't bear to probe.

"I'll confess to anything," I continued, desperation making me bold. "I'll say whatever you want me to say. I'll plead guilty to every charge. Just tell me what happened to them. Please."

Thorne studied me, his expression unreadable. His scent changed subtly, a trace of something like discomfort or doubt threading through the dominant notes of authority and anger.

"You have no right to that information," he said finally, his voice hard again. "The Riley family's case is closed. They betrayed the pack, just as you did."

"They didn't betray anyone!" I took an instinctive step forward, then froze as I realized my error. Moving toward an Alpha without permission was a serious breach of protocol. "I apologize, Alpha Thorne."

Thorne didn't acknowledge my apology. He simply watched me, his gaze intense, as if trying to read something written beneath my skin.

"Please," I whispered, throwing dignity aside completely. "I'm not asking for their freedom or for leniency. I just need to know if they're alive. Where they are. If they're together or separated. That's all I'm asking."

"No." The word fell between us like a stone. "You were sentenced not just for attacking Kaelin, but for your family's association with pack enemies. You have no right to information about traitors."

My hands clenched into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms hard enough to draw blood. The sharp pain helped me maintain control.

"Now you listen to me," Thorne continued, his voice dropping to a dangerous register. "This little performance business of yours? It ends tonight. I won't have an exile from my own judgment parading around, selling her body for cash."

"I don't sell my body," I retorted, a flash of my old fire returning. "I dance. There's a difference."

"Is there?" Thorne's eyebrow arched. "From what I saw, you were minutes away from being stripped naked for the entertainment of those wolves."

The reminder made heat flood my cheeks. "I wouldn't have—"

"Wouldn't you?" he interrupted. "For the right price? For information about your precious family of traitors?"

His words struck like physical blows. I had no response because I wasn't sure what my answer would have been. How far would I go to find my family? I didn't know the limits of my own desperation.

"You have one week," Thorne said, turning toward the door. "Find legitimate employment, or leave Moon Bay. I won't have you turning up in places where I conduct business, reminding everyone of my judgment."

"Your judgment was wrong," I said quietly to his back.

He paused, hand on the doorknob. For a moment, I thought he might turn around, might engage with my claim. Instead, his shoulders stiffened further.

"One week, Riley," he repeated. "Don't test me further."

The door closed behind him with a decisive click, leaving me alone in the quiet room. I stood there, trembling slightly, the echo of his presence still filling the space.

---

After a few minutes, I gathered myself enough to leave. My legs felt unsteady beneath me as I made my way to the door. When I opened it, the hallway was empty except for Terra, who waited anxiously against the opposite wall.

"Freya!" she exclaimed, rushing forward. "Are you okay? What happened? Those guys who were hassling you—they all left in a hurry, and then Ryder Foster told me to give you this." She thrust a thick envelope into my hands. "He said it's from the jerks who bothered you. Double what they promised, Alpha's orders."

I stared at the envelope, feeling its weight. Inside would be more money than I'd seen since returning from exile.

"Thank you," I managed, tucking the envelope into my pocket.

"What did Alpha Thorne want?" Terra asked, her eyes wide with curiosity and concern. "Everyone's talking about how he dragged you out of the room."

I leaned against the wall, suddenly exhausted. The events of the evening—the humiliation, Thorne's appearance, my plea for information about my family, his rejection—it all crashed over me at once.

"Freya?" Terra touched my arm hesitantly. "Are you okay?"

I looked down at my hands, remembering who I used to be. The proud daughter of one of Moon Bay's founding families. A high-ranking Beta with a future full of promise. The wolf who had dared to love an Alpha and believed she could be his mate.

"No," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I'm not okay."

The first tear fell before I could stop it, sliding down my cheek and dropping to the floor. Then another. And another. The dam I had built during three years in the Wilds—the emotional wall that had kept me alive—suddenly cracked and gave way.

Terra made an awkward sound of sympathy and put her arms around me. I barely knew her, but in that moment, her kindness was more than I could bear. I sank to the floor, my back against the wall, and she crouched beside me, her hand on my shoulder.

And there, in the dimly lit hallway of a Shadow District bar, I finally allowed myself to cry. For my lost family. For my stolen years. For the wolf I used to be and would never be again. The sobs came from deep within, raw and primal, the grief of my human half and the mournful howl of my wolf combined into a sound of pure anguish.

"It's all right," she murmured, though we both knew it wasn't.