The Alpha's Exiled Mate Chapter 61

Freya's POV

Before I could respond, Cole's lieutenant crossed the room in three long strides, grabbing Terra by the hair and yanking her to her feet. The silver-lined gloves he wore glinted in the dim light as he drew back his fist.

The first blow caught Terra in the stomach, doubling her over. The second connected with her jaw, sending a spray of blood across the concrete floor. I lunged forward instinctively, only to be yanked back by the chain attached to my collar, the metal cutting deeper into my already raw skin.

"Stop!" I screamed, the word tearing from my throat. "She hasn't done anything!"

Cole watched dispassionately as his lieutenant continued the beating, each impact of fist against flesh echoing in the hollow space of the abandoned factory. My breath caught in my throat as memories crashed over me in violent waves – not just general recollections, but vivid, sensory flashbacks from Silver Shackle Prison.

The third day of my incarceration. The guard with the crooked smile and moon-silver knuckle rings. "Riley's daughter thinks she's too good for prison food?" The sickening crack of my ribs. The taste of copper filling my mouth as I bit through my own tongue rather than give him the satisfaction of hearing me scream.

My hands trembled uncontrollably, fingernails digging into my palms until they drew blood. Another punch landed on Terra's face, and her head snapped back with such force I thought her neck might break. The sight of her – innocent, kind Terra who had only ever shown me compassion – being broken piece by piece shattered something inside me.

The isolation cell. Eighteen days without seeing another living soul. The moon-silver bars burning my skin when I accidentally brushed against them during withdrawal seizures. The guards placing bets on how long I would last before going feral from isolation.

"Please," I begged, my voice dropping to a broken whisper. "She's not part of this." My wolf, weakened though she was by the moon-silver, howled in anguish within me – not just for Terra but for every packmate I'd failed to protect, for every kindness repaid with suffering because of their association with me.

The lieutenant paused, his silver-gloved fist pulled back for another blow, Terra's blood glistening on the metal. Her eyes, swollen nearly shut, found mine across the room – not accusing, not hateful, but somehow still concerned for me. It was that impossible compassion that broke the final barrier within me.

The pain from the moon-silver collar burned white-hot around my throat, but paradoxically, it kept me anchored to reality. Unlike normal wolves who would have been lost to the agony or unconscious by now, the burning sensation created a strange clarity, preventing me from being completely swallowed by the flashbacks that threatened to overwhelm me. Each pulse of pain was a reminder: This is now. This is real. And I can still act.

"I'll do it!" I shouted, desperation making my voice crack. The sound bounced off the concrete walls, desperate and feral. "I'll take responsibility for everything at Moon Howl. All the illegal trading, all of it. Just stop hurting her!"

Cole raised a hand, and his lieutenant paused mid-swing. Terra hung limply in his grasp, blood dripping from her mouth onto the concrete floor. I could hear each individual droplet hitting the ground – "pat, pat, pat"– like a grotesque countdown of the seconds we had left.

"Now that's more like it," Cole said, stepping closer to me. His scent—cold and metallic with an undercurrent of decay—made my stomach turn. "But there's one more thing I want to hear."

He crouched before me, his face inches from mine. "I want you to admit what your family did to mine fifteen years ago. Admit that the Rileys wrongfully exiled the Raines."

My chest tightened. I knew little about the Raine family's exile beyond rumors—suspected treason, attempted poisoning of council members, evidence that had seemed irrefutable at the time. My father had been part of the council that voted for their exile, but he'd never discussed the details with me.

"The Rileys made a mistake," I said, the words bitter on my tongue. "What happened fifteen years ago... I apologize on behalf of my bloodline and my honor."

Cole's smile spread slowly, like oil across water. "Well done, exile. Maybe there's hope for you yet."

He stood, nodding to his lieutenant. "Take her to the back room. Make sure she's comfortable."

---

As Terra was dragged away, her eyes met mine—filled with fear, but also with gratitude. I'd bought her time, at least. Whether it would be enough remained to be seen.

Cole snapped his fingers, and two more men entered, carrying a large metal crate stamped with warning symbols. The acrid scent of refined moon-silver leaked from its seams, making me recoil instinctively.

"Perfect evidence," Cole said, directing them to place the crate in the center of the room. "More than enough to send you back to the Forgotten Wilds permanently."

He produced a stack of papers from inside his jacket, spreading them on the floor before me. "Transaction records, purchase orders, distribution plans—all bearing your signature."

"Those are forgeries," I spat, unable to contain my anger despite the danger.

Cole shrugged, unconcerned. "Who's going to believe an exile over documented evidence? Now, be a good little traitor and make this official."

He grasped my bleeding wrist, forcing my fingers open. The pain was blinding as he pressed my bleeding fingertips against the documents, leaving crimson impressions that would dry into damning evidence.

"There," he said with satisfaction, gathering the papers. "Now you're the sole suspect in Moon Howl's illegal operations."

"Will you let Terra go now?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

Cole's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Of course. Once we're safely away."

His head suddenly jerked up, nostrils flaring. A low curse escaped his lips as he moved to the grimy window, peering out into the darkness.

"Shit," he growled. "We've got company. There's a pack surrounding the building."

Fear and hope warred within me. A pack could mean rescue—or it could mean more enemies. Moon Bay wasn't the only territory with grievances against the Riley name.

Cole turned to me, fury transforming his features into something barely human. "You have ten minutes. If Grey's wolves don't back off, your friend dies first. Then you'll follow, nice and slow."