Chapter 6
Freya's POV
Three years passed in the brutal landscape of the Forgotten Wilds. Three years of fighting for every scrap of food, every moment of rest, every day of continued existence. The silver collar became a part of me, its constant burn a reminder of what I'd lost.
I learned to survive on the edges of established exile packs, never quite belonging but trading skills and information to earn my keep. I became leaner, harder, more attuned to the harsh realities of life without civilization's comforts.
And then, one morning, the Wild Guardians appeared at the borders of the wasteland where I'd made my temporary shelter.
"Freya Riley," the lead Guardian called. "Your sentence is complete. The collar comes off today."
I approached cautiously, hardly daring to believe it. When they unlocked the silver device, the rush of connection with my wolf was overwhelming. She surged forward in my consciousness, our bond restored like water flooding a parched riverbed.
"Remember your place when you return," the Guardian said as he handed me the minimal possessions I'd had when I arrived. "You're not a Riley Beta Elite anymore. You're an ex-exile. Lower than an Omega."
I touched the scarring around my neck where the collar had burned me for three long years. "I remember exactly who I am," I said quietly.
The journey back to Moon Bay was surreal. The city skyline appeared on the horizon like something from a dream—towers of glass and steel rising above the surrounding forest territory. Had it always been so imposing? So forbidding?
My first destination was the Moon Light Woods, the affluent western district where the Riley family compound had once stood. As I approached on foot—no transportation provided for returning exiles—I caught unfamiliar scents marking the territory.
"Excuse me," I called to a passing Beta male who wore the professional attire of the district's typical residents. "The Riley property—who owns it now?"
The man's nose wrinkled as he caught my scent, no doubt detecting the lingering smell of the Wilds and the taint of exile. "The pack acquired it two years ago. Why are you asking? You don't belong in this district." His eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"Just curious," I said, backing away before he could call security.
As I turned to leave, an older Beta male approached, carrying a small package. He studied me with careful eyes before speaking.
"You're the Riley girl," he said softly. "I recognize the moon-mark on your neck." He gestured to the white crescent-shaped birthmark just below my ear—the signature of Riley bloodline.
I tensed, ready for hostility, but instead, he pressed a small package into my hands.
"Your father's pack helped my pup when he was injured during a hunt," the man explained quickly, glancing around to ensure no one watched our exchange. "This is dried venison. It's all I can spare." He paused, then added, "I heard your father received seven years for pack treason. The Alpha... he engaged the Brooks woman last year."
My heart constricted painfully. Seven years in the Wilds would kill my father. And Thorne had actually engaged Kaelin—the woman who had framed me.
"Thank you," I whispered, clutching the package.
The man nodded once and hurried away, leaving me alone with the knowledge that my family was gone, our ancestral territory taken, and my father suffering the same fate I had barely survived.
The Shadow District welcomed me as it welcomed all of society's outcasts. The eastern industrial zone of Moon Bay housed those who didn't fit the neat categories of werewolf society—Omegas, mixed-bloods, and returning exiles like myself.
The Howling Moon Bar stood at the district's center, a three-story building with neon signs and bass-heavy music that spilled into the street. Inside, I found what I'd hoped for—a "Help Wanted" sign at the entrance.
The bar manager, a sharp-eyed female Beta named Terra Thompson, looked me up and down skeptically.
"Ex-exile, huh?" she said, catching my scent immediately. "What'd you do?"
"I was convicted of attacking a Beta Elite," I answered honestly. "I didn't do it."
Terra snorted. "They all say that. But it doesn't matter here." She tossed me an apron. "You start tonight. Server position. Tips only for the first week. If you work out, we'll talk wages."
The work was grueling but straightforward—serve drinks, clean tables, avoid the handsy customers. I found a tiny room to rent above a nearby laundromat and settled into a routine that, while demeaning, at least kept me fed and sheltered.
For three weeks, I worked, slept, and planned my next moves in solitude. Then came the night that changed everything.
"All female staff to the VIP room," Terra announced, bustling through the main floor. "Boss says we have an important client."
I followed the other servers to a back hallway where we were instructed to line up. The bar owner, a heavyset Beta male named Marcus, paced before us.
"We have Alpha Stone from the Silverstone Pack visiting tonight," he said, his voice tense with the importance of the occasion. "One of you will be selected to serve his table exclusively. Stand straight, look presentable."
My heart pounded. Alpha Jasper Stone—leader of Moon Bay's neighboring territory and Thorne's chief rival. What was he doing in this lowly establishment?
The door opened, and a powerfully built man entered. Even in human form, his Alpha status was unmistakable—the confident stride, the way his eyes assessed everything in the room as either threat or resource. His dark hair was cut short, and unlike Thorne's polished appearance, he had a rugged quality that spoke of a wolf more comfortable in forests than boardrooms.
He walked slowly down the line, scenting each server in turn—an old-fashioned gesture that would have been considered crude in upper society but was standard practice in traditional packs. When he reached me, his nostrils flared, and his eyes widened slightly.
"This one," he said, his voice a deep rumble. "She's interesting."
Marcus looked surprised but quickly recovered. "Of course, Alpha Stone. Freya will attend to your table exclusively tonight."
Jasper Stone leaned closer, inhaling deeply near my neck in the traditional wolf greeting. I forced myself to remain still, though every instinct screamed to back away from the unfamiliar Alpha.
"I like the untamed ones," he said with a grin that revealed slightly elongated canines. "They're always more... authentic."
As the other servers dispersed, he placed a hand on the small of my back, guiding me toward the VIP room. "Let's get better acquainted, little wolf. I'm very interested in you."