The Alpha's Exiled Mate Chapter 53

Thorne's POV

I closed the study door behind us, shutting out the two enforcers who had arrived earlier with their report on the Moon Howl. Freya stood in the center of the room, her posture tense but not cowering. Despite everything she'd been through, she still maintained that core of dignity that had first caught my attention years ago.

"Sit," I said, gesturing to the chair across from my desk.

She obeyed, perching on the edge of the seat as if ready to flee at any moment. The morning light streaming through the windows caught the pale strands in her hair, giving her an almost ethereal appearance. But the dark circles under her eyes and the too-sharp angles of her cheekbones betrayed her recent hardships.

I moved to stand behind my desk, maintaining the physical barrier between us. It was safer that way—for both of us.

"I need you to tell me exactly what your duties were at the Moon Howl," I said, keeping my voice neutral. "Every detail, no matter how insignificant it might seem."

Freya's fingers twisted in her lap. "I was just a server," she said. "I delivered drinks, cleared tables, occasionally helped wash glasses when they were short-staffed."

"And your interactions with the owner? The one they call Wolf King?"

A flash of something—fear?—crossed her face before she controlled it. "Minimal. He hired me on Terra's recommendation. I barely spoke to him beyond receiving instructions for my shifts."

I began to slowly pace around the desk, watching her reaction. Her scent shifted subtly as I moved closer—notes of anxiety mingling with something else, something that made my wolf stir with interest.

"You're not telling me everything," I said, stopping directly beside her chair. "Your scent gives you away."

Freya tensed further, her eyes fixed straight ahead. "I don't know what you want me to say, Alpha Thorne. I served drinks. I didn't ask questions about what else might have been happening there."

I leaned against the desk, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact. It was a power move, one I'd used countless times in interrogations, but with Freya, it felt different. More personal.

"Did you ever see packages changing hands? Money beyond what would be normal for drink purchases? Customers who came regularly but never seemed to order anything?"

She swallowed hard, and I found my eyes drawn to the pale column of her throat. The exile mark was visible just below her jawline—a small crescent of silver that had been embedded in her skin during the banishment ceremony. It had faded somewhat since her return, but it would never completely disappear.

"There were... private rooms," she admitted finally. "In the back. Terra mentioned that high-paying customers could rent them for 'special services,' but I never went back there. I wasn't allowed."

"What kind of special services?"

"She didn't specify. I assumed it was... intimate encounters." A flush crept up her neck.

I nodded slowly. Both were common in establishments like the Moon Howl, and neither was what the enforcers were investigating. They were looking for evidence of moon-silver trading—a highly regulated substance that only Alphas were authorized to handle in significant quantities.

"Did you ever hear mention of silver trade? See any containers with the hazard markings?"

Freya's head snapped up, genuine surprise in her eyes. "Moon-silver? No, absolutely not. I would have noticed that." She unconsciously reached up to touch her exile mark. "I'm... sensitive to it now."

The gesture made something twist uncomfortably in my chest. I knew from Dr. Maloy's report that she'd been exposed to excessive amounts of moon-silver during her time in Silver Shackle prison—far more than I had authorized in her sentencing.

"I believe you," I said quietly.

Relief flashed across her face, quickly replaced by wariness. She didn't trust my sudden acceptance of her word, and I couldn't blame her.

I moved away, giving her space to breathe, and walked to the window. The enforcers were visible in the courtyard below, speaking with my head of security. They were eager to take Freya in for formal questioning, convinced that her connection to the Moon Howl was more than coincidental.

"The enforcers want to take you to headquarters for interrogation," I said without turning around. "They believe you know more than you're telling us."

I heard her quick intake of breath, smelled the spike of fear in her scent. "I've told you everything I know," she said, her voice remarkably steady despite her obvious terror.

I turned back to face her. "I know."

Confusion replaced fear in her expression. "Then why—"

"Because the Wolf King was caught on surveillance passing moon-silver to a customer." I took a step toward her. "And you were there, Freya. You were seen entering the bar that day."

Her eyes widened. "I didn't see any moon-silver trading. If it happened, it wasn't where staff could see."

I studied her face, looking for any sign of deception. My wolf's senses were sharper than any lie detector, and while her fear was palpable, I detected no dishonesty.

"Wait here," I said, and moved to the door to admit the enforcers.

The two enforcers entered, their expressions hardening when they saw Freya. Deltas Prescott and Williams were known for their thoroughness in investigations—and their distaste for exiles.

"Alpha Thorne," Prescott began, "we've completed our initial assessment. While there's no direct evidence linking this... individual to the illegal trading, her presence at the establishment and connection to the Wolf King are highly suspicious."

"She was a server," I said flatly. "And from what I've gathered, not privy to the back-room operations."

Williams frowned. "With respect, Alpha, we believe further questioning at headquarters would be beneficial. Perhaps with enhanced techniques."

I knew what he meant—interrogation with moon-silver present, which would weaken her resistance and force compliance. The thought made my wolf bristle with unexpected protectiveness.

"That won't be necessary," I said, my tone making it clear the matter wasn't up for discussion. "Continue your investigation of the Wolf King and his suppliers. Miss Riley will remain here, under my authority, until this matter is resolved."

Prescott looked like he wanted to argue but thought better of it. "As you wish, Alpha Thorne. We'll continue gathering evidence and keep you informed of our progress."

---

After they left, I turned back to Freya, who was watching me with a mixture of relief and suspicion.

"Thank you," she said cautiously.

"Don't thank me yet," I replied. "You're still under investigation, and you'll remain at Grey Estate until this matter is closed."

She nodded, accepting this without argument. Then, after a moment's hesitation, she spoke again.

"Alpha Thorne, I... I know I have no right to ask for anything, but would you consider allowing me to expand my movement range? Perhaps permit me to go out in the evenings to earn money?"

The request surprised me. I walked slowly around the desk, considering her words. "You want permission to leave Grey Estate in the evenings?" I asked, circling behind her chair.

"Yes," she said. "I need to start saving money. For... for the future."

I couldn't help the low chuckle that escaped me. "You don't need to leave this room to have an opportunity to earn money, Miss Riley."

I moved closer, my fingers lightly brushing the back of her neck. She shivered at the contact, a full-body tremor that told me her wolf was responding to my touch despite the dampening effect of the mark.

"The question is," I continued, my voice dropping lower, "are you willing to take that opportunity?"

Freya went perfectly still, her scent shifting to something complex—fear mingled with a reluctant arousal that she couldn't quite hide. She tried to stand, to put distance between us, but found herself trapped between my body and the heavy wooden desk.

I placed my hands on the desk surface, one on either side of her, effectively caging her in. Her breathing quickened, her pupils dilating as she looked up at me.

"You once would have done anything for an Alpha, isn't that right?" I murmured, close enough that my breath stirred the fine hairs at her temple. "So why not do something for me?"

I watched her throat work as she swallowed, saw the flash of memory in her eyes—the presidential suite at the Grand Lunar, the kiss we'd shared before everything fell apart. Her wolf was responding to my proximity, to my Alpha pheromones, but the exile mark prevented her from fully surrendering to those instincts.

The conflict played out across her face. It was fascinating to watch, and something in me—something darker than I cared to examine—enjoyed seeing her struggle.

"What exactly are you suggesting, Alpha Thorne?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.