The Alpha's Exiled Mate Chapter 233

Freya’s POV

I turned to face Thorne, steeling myself against the pull of his eyes. The morning light streaming through the hotel windows cast his features in sharp relief, highlighting the strong line of his jaw and the intensity of his gaze. Despite the vulnerability of the night before, I knew I needed to establish boundaries if I was going to survive this—whatever "this" was between us.

"I'll agree to return to Grey Moon Pack," I said, my voice steadier than I expected. "But I have conditions."

Thorne's eyebrow arched slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before his expression settled into careful neutrality. The Alpha in him seemed both amused and intrigued by my audacity. The golden flecks in his eyes brightened momentarily—his wolf taking notice.

"Go on," he said, the command in his voice softened by curiosity.

I took a deep breath, gathering my courage. "First, I won't have my freedom restricted. I'm not moving into Grey Manor."

I expected resistance, perhaps even anger at my defiance. Instead, Thorne nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful.

"That's reasonable," he conceded. "Where do you plan to stay, then?"

The question caught me off guard. I hadn't fully formed a plan, but the answer came to me naturally. "I'd like to stay with Martha for a while." I studied his face for a reaction. "You do know where she lives, right?"

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "Of course I do."

"Of course you do," I echoed, trying not to sound bitter about his omniscience when it came to my life. "So that's settled then."

Thorne crossed his arms, his posture relaxed but still radiating authority. "I'll agree to that arrangement, but I'll have patrols increased in that area. For your safety."

I bit back a retort about whether the patrols were truly for protection or surveillance. Instead, I nodded, accepting the compromise. One battle at a time.

The second condition was harder to voice. My heart hammered against my ribs as I gathered my courage. "And second..." I swallowed hard, my voice threatening to falter. "If you go through with the binding ceremony with Kaelin, then whatever this is between us..." I gestured vaguely between us, "It ends. Completely."

My voice trembled slightly on the last word, betraying the emotion I was trying so hard to contain. The thought of him with Kaelin after what we'd shared made my wolf howl in protest, clawing at my insides.

Thorne's expression darkened, and he took a step toward me. His scent enveloped me as he moved closer.

"Haven't I told you already?" His voice dropped to a low rumble that I felt in my chest. "The binding ceremony with Kaelin has been postponed."

I stared at him, confusion and a treacherous flicker of hope mingling in my chest. "Why?" I shook my head, trying to make sense of his actions. "I don't understand you, Thorne. Before, when I pursued you, you rejected me. Now, when you're about to bind with Kaelin, you act like you don't even like her."

Frustration bubbled up inside me, spilling into my words. "You've been so kind to her all this time, treating her like she's made of glass."

Thorne moved closer still, his golden wolf eyes fixed on mine. "You never understood me, Freya. I never said I liked Kaelin."

I took a step back, needing distance to think clearly. "Then why were you so good to her?"

"Because we grew up together," he said simply, turning to look out the window. His profile was sharp against the morning light. "Nothing more."

He turned back to me, his expression serious. "The ceremony was postponed because her condition makes her unsuitable as a Luna."

I frowned, thinking of Kaelin's moon phase syndrome. It seemed cruel to reject her for something she couldn't control, regardless of how I felt about her personally.

"There's more," Thorne continued, his voice hardening. "I'm investigating who authorized private punishment on you in the prison."

My blood ran cold at the mention of that place. Memories I'd tried to bury flashed through my mind—the sting of silver against my skin, the feeling of drowning as they held me under, the silver restraints burning into my wrists and ankles.

"What?" I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.

Thorne's eyes narrowed, rage simmering beneath his controlled exterior. "I discovered that the warden and prison director who were in charge during your time there have both stepped down. I can't locate them." He sat on the edge of the bed, his posture tense. "But I found out they were promoted through connections to the Brooks family."

His eyes met mine, cold and calculating. "Interesting, isn't it? How everything happening around me seems to connect back to the Brooks family."

He walked toward me, his movements measured and deliberate. "I won't bind with Kaelin until I've sorted through this mess. I need to know what's really going on."

My mind raced, pieces falling into place. If the Brooks family had been behind my torture in prison, what else might they be responsible for? Could they have been involved in framing me in the first place?

A chill ran through me as I thought of my brother Ethan. If the Brooks family was behind my suffering, they might know something about his disappearance too. But I couldn't tell Thorne about Ethan—not yet. Thorne's sense of justice was absolute; if he discovered Ethan had returned from exile without permission, my brother would face severe punishment.

I need to protect Ethan first. Once he's safe, I can tell Thorne everything.

I forced a neutral expression, trying to hide my churning thoughts. "So... when do we go to Martha's?"

Thorne seemed to accept my change of subject. "We can go now, if you're ready. I'll have her prepare a room for you."

I nodded, relieved to have something concrete to focus on. "I'd like that."

---

Martha's home was a modest but elegant villa in the Moon Light District, a neighborhood I never could have afforded on my own. The architecture was modern with classic touches—large windows that let in plenty of natural light, stonework that gave it a timeless quality, and a small but beautifully maintained garden.

As Thorne's car pulled up to the curb, I felt a pang of nervousness. I hadn't seen Martha since my return from exile, though I'd thought of her often. She had been more than just a fellow servant at Grey Manor; she'd been a mentor and mother figure to me after my own parents disappeared.

"Are you sure she won't mind me staying?" I asked, suddenly uncertain.

Thorne's lips curved into a small smile. "She's been hoping you'd come."

Mark carried my meager belongings—the few things I'd salvaged from my apartment—into the house while Thorne and I approached the front door. Before we could knock, it swung open to reveal Martha, her familiar face lined with a few more wrinkles than I remembered, but her eyes just as warm.

"It's been too long," she said simply, opening her arms.

I stepped into her embrace, inhaling the comforting scent of cinnamon and vanilla that had always clung to her. "I've missed you, Martha."

After a moment, she pulled back to look at me, her hands gently cupping my face. "You're too thin," she declared, in the same tone she'd used to scold me for not eating my vegetables when we worked together at Grey Estate.

I laughed, feeling lighter than I had in days. "I'll work on that."

Once Mark had deposited my bags in what would be my room and departed, Martha showed me around the house. Thorne excused himself with a promise to check in later, leaving Martha and me alone.

"This is a beautiful home," I said, admiring the tasteful furnishings and warm colors.

Martha nodded, leading me into a sunny kitchen. "It's more than I ever dreamed of having."

A question had been nagging at me since we arrived. "Martha, how can you afford a place in the Moon Light District? This area is so expensive even Beta elites struggle to live here. Wasn't Thorne the one who dismissed you from Grey Estate? When we worked there together..."