The Alpha's Exiled Mate Chapter 158

Freya’s POV

I slowly raised my head, meeting her eyes directly. Something flickered across her face—recognition, perhaps, or surprise. She studied me for a long moment, then turned to Melissa.

"You can go home now," she said firmly. "I'll take it from here."

"But Emma—"

"Now, Melissa."

The Beta wolf clenched her jaw but nodded stiffly. "Of course." She gathered her things and left, shooting me a final glare as she passed.

Once we were alone, Emma surveyed the office, then spoke in a lowered voice. "Everyone else has left?"

I nodded, still kneeling amid the scattered papers.

"Good," she said, then raised her voice slightly. "I'll help the new designer get acquainted with our systems. You can all head home."

I heard movement from nearby cubicles—apparently not everyone had left after all. Several designers appeared, looking disappointed as they collected their belongings and filed out of the office. Emma waited until the last of them had gone before turning back to me.

"Now," she said, approaching my desk, "tell me your real name."

My heart raced. "Mia Potter," I answered automatically.

Emma shook her head slowly. "No. Your real name."

I hesitated, weighing my options. Jasper had warned me to maintain my cover, but something in Emma's eyes told me she already knew the truth.

"Freya," I admitted quietly. "Freya Riley."

Emma's posture changed subtly—not threatening, but more alert. "I thought so. I recognized your scent pattern beneath all the synthetic neutralizers you're wearing."

I rose to my feet, prepared to defend myself if necessary. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you worked for Stone Group. If my presence here is a problem—"

"Did Alpha Stone bring you in?" she interrupted.

I nodded cautiously.

A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Interesting. And are you using your design background, or is this just a cover?"

"My design background is real," I said, feeling slightly offended at the implication.

Emma studied me for another moment, then extended her hand. "Emma White. I was Selena Hunter's student at Grey Moon Academy. Two years ahead of you, I believe."

My eyes widened in recognition. "You're Professor Hunter's student? The one who won the National Pack Design Award three years in a row?"

Emma nodded, looking pleased that I remembered. "And you were her most promising protégé before..." She trailed off, her expression softening slightly. "Before everything happened."

I lowered my gaze, the familiar shame washing over me. "Yes. Before that."

"Freya," Emma said, her voice gentler now, "I won't expose your identity. But if you're going to work in my department, even temporarily, you need to prove yourself." She gestured to the scattered designs. "Not by organizing old archives, but by showing your talent."

"Alpha Stone said—"

"I don't care what he said," Emma interrupted firmly. "This is my department. If you want the others to accept you, they need to see you're here on merit, not because of connections."

I nodded, understanding her position. "I can do that."

"Good." Emma helped me gather the remaining papers. "The design team needs to see you're not just some Alpha's pet project."

As we worked, Emma added casually, "You should visit Professor Hunter sometime. She's still teaching at the academy. She never believed the accusations against you, you know. Kept all your student work as examples of exceptional design."

A lump formed in my throat. "I didn't know that."

"She missed you," Emma said simply. "We all did. The design community lost something when you were exiled."

When we finished collecting all the papers, Emma insisted on driving me back to my apartment. During the ride, we kept conversation light, avoiding the heavier topics of my exile or my current situation. It felt almost normal—just two designers discussing projects and techniques.

As we pulled up to my building, Emma handed me her card. "Come in early tomorrow. I'll brief you on a real project."

"Thank you," I said, genuinely moved by her kindness.

Emma shrugged. "Talent is rare. I'd be a fool to waste it because of politics."

I watched her drive away, feeling a strange mixture of hope and wariness. One more ally in this unfamiliar territory, but also one more person who knew my secret. I could only hope Emma would keep her word.

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Thorne's POV

It's been a week since I came back from the Silverstone Wolf Pack. This week, I asked Delta Team to intensify her search for the place where Freya last appeared, but there was still no news. Today, I found myself standing in the doorway of Price Designs, the most exclusive wedding attire shop in Moon Bay. The storefront gleamed with polished glass and chrome, displaying wedding gowns that seemed to float ethereally in the window. Behind me, Kaelin smiled excitedly at the prospect of trying on her custom-designed dress.

"It's beautiful," she whispered, squeezing my arm.

I nodded absently, checking my watch again. We were already fifteen minutes late for our appointment, having been delayed by a last-minute pack issue that required my attention. Inside, I could see Selena Price herself pacing anxiously, occasionally glancing toward the door.

"Alpha Thorne!" Selena exclaimed as we entered, her relief evident. "We were beginning to worry."

"Pack business," I replied curtly. "Unavoidable."

Selena nodded understanding, then turned to Kaelin with a warm smile. "Miss Brooks, your dress is ready for the final fitting. It's absolutely stunning, if I may say so myself."

Kaelin beamed, her earlier irritation at being late seemingly forgotten. "I can't wait to see it."

The other customers in the boutique—mostly Beta females with their families—immediately stepped back, creating a respectful distance as we moved through the shop. I noticed how they lowered their eyes, not daring to stare directly at us. Such was the life of an Alpha and his chosen mate.

"This way, please," Selena guided us toward a private fitting area at the back of the shop. "Alpha Thorne, would you prefer to wait here, or would you like to see Miss Brooks in her dress?"

"I'll wait," I said, taking a seat in the designated area. Truth be told, I had little interest in wedding details. The binding ceremony was a formality, a political alliance between families that had been arranged. My father and Edward Brooks had engineered the match to strengthen both bloodlines, and I had accepted it as my duty to the pack.

As Kaelin disappeared into the fitting room with Selena and two assistants, I found myself staring blankly at the wall of fabric samples, my mind elsewhere. The past week had been frustrating. Despite expanding our search efforts, we'd found no trace of Freya Riley. It was as if she'd simply vanished from Moon Bay.

"Alphas often resist binding ceremonies," Selena's voice broke into my thoughts as she emerged briefly from the fitting room. "Many see it as limiting their freedom or burdening them with pack responsibilities."

I raised an eyebrow, surprised by her forwardness. "Is that so?"

Selena arranged some accessories on a nearby table, her movements deliberate. "It's common. The Alpha instinct values independence." She paused, glancing at me. "Though those who embrace the binding often find it strengthens their position, rather than weakens it."

I said nothing, wondering why she felt compelled to offer this unsolicited insight. Before I could question her further, there was a rustle of fabric as the fitting room curtain parted.

"Thorne? What do you think?"