The Alpha's Exiled Mate Chapter 151

Freya’s POV

My stomach dropped. This wasn't part of the plan. If they examined me too closely, they might recognize me, or worse, notice the silver mark of exile on my neck despite my carefully arranged hair.

Jasper's scent shifted, taking on the unmistakable edge of Alpha anger. "That won't be necessary," he said, his voice deceptively calm but laced with authority. "She's under my protection and employment now. Her papers are in order, and more importantly, she carries my scent mark."

The last part wasn't exactly a lie. Before we'd approached the checkpoint, Jasper had rubbed his wrist along the back of my neck and shoulders—a common practice among pack members to identify belonging, though usually not performed between an Alpha and a Beta outside his family.

The guard hesitated, clearly torn between following procedures and avoiding an Alpha's wrath. He leaned closer to me, inhaling deeply. I remained still, though every instinct screamed to pull away from the invasive scent check.

After a moment, he straightened. "She does carry your mark, Alpha Stone." He sounded slightly confused, as if wondering why an Alpha would personally scent-mark a mere household employee.

"Of course she does," Jasper replied coolly. "All members of my household carry my protection. Now, is there anything else, or may we proceed? I have important matters awaiting my attention in Silverstone."

The guard seemed about to press further when his radio crackled. He stepped away to take the call, speaking in low tones. When he returned, his demeanor had changed subtly.

"You're cleared to proceed, Alpha Stone," he said, though his eyes lingered on me suspiciously. "However, I should inform you that future crossings will require advance notice, especially when bringing new staff into or out of Grey Moon territory."

"Noted," Jasper said tersely.

The guard signaled to his colleagues, and the barrier lifted. Jasper drove through without another word, the SUV's powerful engine purring as we accelerated away from the checkpoint.

I didn't dare exhale until we were at least a mile past the border. When I finally did, it came out as a shaky, relieved sigh.

"You did well," Jasper said, his eyes still on the road ahead. "Not many wolves can maintain that level of composure under a Delta guard's scrutiny."

"It's not my first time pretending to be someone I'm not," I replied, reaching up to massage my tense neck muscles. "Though I wasn't sure if the scent marking would work."

"It was a risk," he admitted. "But less risky than having them examine you more closely. The silver mark would have given you away immediately."

I nodded, watching as the familiar landscape of Moon Bay's outskirts gave way to the neutral territory between the two pack lands. This narrow strip, about five miles wide, was technically unclaimed—a buffer zone where neither pack's scent markers dominated. It was mostly wild, with small homesteads scattered here and there belonging to wolves who preferred independence from pack hierarchy.

"So," I said after a few minutes of silence, "those new protocols. They're because of me, aren't they?"

Jasper glanced at me briefly before returning his attention to the road. "Yes. Thorne has ordered increased security at all border crossings. He's determined to find you."

I didn't know how to feel about that. Part of me—the foolish, hopeful part—wanted to believe Thorne was searching for me because he cared. But the rational part knew better. I was a loose end, a potential embarrassment, and Thorne Grey hated nothing more than loose ends.

"He won't stop looking," I said quietly.

"No, he won't," Jasper agreed. "Which is why we need to be careful. Once we're in Silverstone territory, you'll be safer. Thorne can't simply march in and take you—that would violate pack law. But he can make formal requests, and he can apply pressure."

I looked out the window, watching as the unclaimed territory rolled by. Wild grasses swayed in the breeze, and in the distance, I could make out the silhouette of a lone wolf running freely. Something in my chest ached at the sight.

"We're approaching Silverstone territory," Jasper announced as the landscape began to change. The wild, unclaimed land gradually gave way to more cultivated areas—not manicured in the formal way of Moon Bay, but thoughtfully developed with nature in mind.

The first thing I noticed was the difference in architecture. Where Moon Bay favored grand, imposing structures that emphasized the pack hierarchy, Silverstone's buildings were more organic, blending with the natural environment. The roads wound around trees instead of cutting through them, and I saw more mixed-use spaces where wolves of different ranks seemed to mingle freely.

"It's...different," I said, taking in the sight of a Beta café where wolves lounged on outdoor patios, some in partial shift form—something that would never be allowed in the formal settings of Moon Bay.

"Silverstone has a different philosophy," Jasper explained, sounding pleased by my observation. "We value traditional pack strength, but we don't believe rank should determine every aspect of life. A Beta with talent and drive can rise to positions that would be closed to them in Grey Moon Pack."

I couldn't help but think about how different my life might have been if my family had belonged to this pack instead. Would the Riley name still have been disgraced? Would I have been exiled?

As we drove deeper into Silverstone territory, I noticed more differences. The residential areas weren't segregated by rank as strictly as in Moon Bay. While there were clearly more luxurious homes in certain areas, they weren't isolated behind gates and guards like the Moon Light District where elite families like the Brooks and Greys lived.

Jasper turned into a modern residential area, pulling up to a sleek apartment building that stood about twelve stories high. Unlike the imposing stone mansions of Moon Bay's elite, this building featured extensive glass, steel, and sustainable wood, with balconies overflowing with greenery.

"This is where you'll be staying," he said, parking in a reserved space near the entrance. "It's one of Silverstone Pack's staff residences, used primarily for visiting specialists and new recruits."

I eyed the building skeptically. "It looks expensive."

"It is," he said simply, getting out of the SUV.