The Alpha's Exiled Mate Chapter 52

Freya’s POV

Later that evening, after helping clean up from dinner service, I climbed the narrow stairs to my attic room. The space was small but clean, with a single bed, a rickety dresser, and a small window that overlooked the western gardens.

I sank onto the bed, exhausted from the day's work but too wired to sleep. I pulled out the worn tablet that Edith had reluctantly provided me—staff were allowed limited access to the estate's network for basic entertainment during off hours.

As I scrolled through the approved sites, a notification caught my eye: "Silverstone Pack Announces Annual Full Moon Ritual Arts Competition. Grand Prize: 50,000 Moon Silver."

My heart leaped. Ritual arts had been my specialty before exile—I'd majored in Traditional Werewolf Ceremonial Design at Moon Bay College, and my choreography for the full moon ritual had once been selected for the Youth Festival performance. Fifty thousand moon silver would give me enough to start over, to rent a decent place, to search for Ethan and my parents without worrying about where my next meal would come from.

I clicked on the link eagerly, scanning the requirements. My excitement faded as I read further:

[Eligibility: Open to Beta or Alpha bloodlines in good standing. Valid bloodline certification and resident identification required. Applicants with criminal records or exile history will not be considered.]

A bitter laugh escaped me. Of course. Even in this, I was blocked by my exile status. I stared at the screen, remembering how I'd once designed the full moon ritual for Moonlight Woods, the most prestigious district in Moon Bay. Now I couldn't even enter a competition.

"I used to choreograph for the finest packs in the city," I whispered to the empty room. "Now I can't even apply."

I shut off the tablet and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The moon was waxing, approaching full, and I could feel its pull even through the dampening effect of the exile mark on my neck. My wolf whined inside me, restless and frustrated.

Tomorrow would be another day of servitude, another day of swallowing my pride, of being less than what I was born to be. But I would endure it. For Ethan. For my parents. For the day when the Riley name would be cleared, and I could hold my head high again.

---

The next morning, I was assigned to kitchen duty, working alongside Martha to prepare lunch for the estate staff. I chopped vegetables methodically, trying to ignore the ache in my back from yesterday's heavy lifting in the pantry. At least I'd had a proper breakfast this morning—Martha had made sure of that, setting aside a plate of eggs and toast for me before the others arrived.

I was retrieving fresh herbs from the kitchen storage when Lucy appeared in the doorway. She was one of the Beta maids assigned to the second floor, and she'd made it clear from day one that she considered me beneath her.

"Well, well," she said, leaning against the doorframe. "Taking a break already? Alpha Thorne is still working, you know. What makes you think a filthy exile like you deserves rest?"

I straightened, the bundle of rosemary and thyme clutched in my hand. "I'm not resting, Lucy. I'm gathering herbs for the lunch preparation."

She snorted. "Don't try to sound so refined. I knew who you really are." She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a hiss. "The Riley family was driven out of Moonlight Woods in disgrace. You're not some Beta elite anymore."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, keeping my voice steady. "I'm just here to work."

Lucy's smile was cruel. "Alpha Thorne may have brought you back, but we all know it's just so we can see what happens when someone who betrays an Alpha is reduced to an Omega." She took another step forward. "You should be grateful. Most exiles never make it back at all."

"Who told you who I am?" I demanded, my patience snapping.

Lucy's eyes gleamed with malice. "That's not important. What matters is that everyone knows now." She bared her teeth slightly, the hint of wolf fangs showing. "Watch yourself in this house. You're not welcome here."

As she turned to leave, a chill ran up my spine that had nothing to do with her threats. There was something in the air—a scent I couldn't quite place, but it felt familiar. Dangerous. Not Lucy's, but something beyond her, something that reminded me of my time in exile.

Before I could analyze it further, Lucy was gone, and I was left alone with the herbs and a growing sense of unease.

I returned to my station quickly, focusing on the task at hand. Martha gave me a concerned look but didn't pry. As I was preparing a marinade for the meat, the kitchen door swung open again.

Mark, Thorne's personal assistant, stood in the doorway, his expression serious. "Freya Riley," he announced formally. "Alpha Thorne requires your presence in his study immediately."

Martha looked up from her work, surprise evident on her face. "What's this about? We're in the middle of lunch preparation."

Mark's expression remained neutral. "Pack enforcers are investigating illegal trading operations at the Moon Howl. Alpha Thorne wishes to speak with Miss Riley personally."

My stomach sank, fear rushing up my spine like ice water. The investigation into the Moon Howl was finally happening, but now I suddenly realized what this meant for me. I had served drinks to those VIP booths, interacted with customers who paid premium prices—the ones whose activities I had pretended not to notice. If the enforcers believed I was involved in those transactions...

God, I could be exiled again.

I looked at Martha, who had gone pale. She nodded slightly, a silent gesture of support.

"Now, Miss Riley," Mark said when I hesitated, his tone brooking no argument.

I wiped my hands on my apron, removed it, and followed Mark out of the kitchen. As we climbed the main staircase toward Thorne's study, I noticed two enforcers standing outside the door. Their uniforms bore Delta badges, and they watched me with cold eyes.

When we reached them, Thorne himself appeared in the doorway, his expression stern. He was dressed more casually than usual—a dark button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing strong forearms. The absence of his usual suit jacket made him seem more approachable but somehow more dangerous.

"Wait outside," he commanded the enforcers, his voice deep and filled with authority. "I will conduct the questioning personally."

"But Alpha Thorne, considering the suspect's background, perhaps we should—" one of the enforcers began.

"I said, wait outside," Thorne cut him off, his voice carrying the unmistakable weight of an Alpha command. "I will handle this."

Both enforcers immediately lowered their heads and stepped back. "Yes, Alpha."

Thorne's forceful attitude both frightened and gave me a glimmer of hope. Perhaps he wouldn't immediately hand me over to the enforcers, but how long would this protection last? Would he really stand by me? Following an Alpha into a closed room for "questioning" was never a good sign for someone in my position.