Freya's POV
After being kicked out of Kingsley's office by security, I strode angrily into the elevator, wondering what my next move should be.
I had always known that my mother Livia's marriage to my father Theo was in trouble before her accident, so it came as no surprise when he decided to file for divorce shortly after.
However, his lawyer convinced Theo to abandon the idea, fearing that it would harm the company's public image and tarnish his reputation as being unfaithful.
Three years had passed since Livia's accident when Theo gradually seized control of the entire company, replacing the management with his own people.
Amidst this shift, his thoughts once again turned to divorce. However, that year, by some twist of fate, I was mistakenly accepted by Kingsley to become his Luna.
Theo was taken aback upon hearing this news. Since the opportunity for me to be the Luna of the Alpha in the esteemed Shadowmoon Pack would bring him a natural advantage on business, Theo didn't hesitate and accepted the proposal without a second thought.
In order to convince me to willingly agree to be Kingsley's Luna, Theo made a promise not to divorce Livia for a decade. If Livia remained unconscious after ten years, the marriage would be dissolved, and he would assume the responsibility for Livia's hospital expenses for the remainder of her life.
However, now, after a mere three years, my union with Kingsley was falling apart. If Theo were to discover this, I was certain he would cut off Livia's medication. With the meager funds I had now, it was not enough to cover the costs of Livia's treatment.
Hence, under the condition that I could successfully separate from Kingsley, secure a portion of the property, and establish a stable income, I couldn't afford to let Theo find out. Unfortunately, Kingsley appeared unwilling to assist me in concealing the truth.
Frustration welled up within me for a fleeting moment.
As the elevator doors opened, I walked out but unexpectedly collided with Joyce, who was about to enter.
"What are you doing here?" she exclaimed.
I responded nonchalantly, "My husband works here. Why shouldn't I be able to come?"
Joyce sneered, "You really think you're part of my family? What kind of person are you? You're nothing but a lowlife!"
My expression grew cold. "Joyce, I warn you not to provoke me."
Unfazed by the threat, Joyce retorted, "And what if I do? Are you going to tell my brother? Do you think he'll come to your defense?"
I stared at her icily. "At least if he knows what happened on our wedding night, he will stand by my side!"
Joyce's face changed greatly, caught off guard by my words.
"What do you know of it all?" Joyce asked, her voice trembling with panic.
I responded with a cold tone, "Quite a lot, including your despicable deeds. It would be wise not to trifle with me again, or I shall expose your secrets. Considering how much your grandma valued the Shadowmoon Pack's reputation, how do you suppose she would punish you?"
After ridding myself of the troublesome Joyce, I made my way to the lower parking lot, consumed by a sour mood.
The atmosphere was quiet, with only a few dim lights scattered around. Following my recollection, I headed towards my car. Just as I reached for my keys, the lights abruptly flickered, causing me to startle and drop them to the ground. Bending down to retrieve them, I couldn't help but catch a faint whiff of something unusual.
"Hey there, pretty girl, all by yourself?" a voice called out.
Turning my head, I noticed that three or four roughs had mysteriously appeared and were steadily approaching me. Ignoring them, I pivoted and prepared to leave. However, they quickly dispersed, encircling me, clearly determined to prevent my escape.
"Pretty girl, why stay lonely when you can join us? We'll show you a good time, guaranteed," one of the roughs sneered, revealing yellowed fangs as the others whistled in agreement.
A cold smile played upon my lips. My life had been burdened enough by recent troubles, and I yearned for an outlet to release my frustrations.
I circled around the car, heading toward the trunk. Inside, I found an assortment of tools, pondering whether the left iron bar or the right wrench would serve me better.
Suddenly, a familiar voice broke the tension. "What are you up to?"
I glanced up and spotted a man approaching.
"Who are you? Mind your own business!" the roughs shouted at him.
The man chuckled lightly. "A concerned citizen, upholding righteousness."
In an instant, he swiftly approached the gang leader, exerting force on his wrist, causing him to yelp in pain.
Taking hold of my shoulders, the man gently guided me behind him, whispering, "Are you alright?"
It was then that I recognized him as the man I had encountered on the terrace of the hospital that day.
I shook my head in response.
Enraged, the leader of those roughs berated his comrades. "What are you waiting for? Get them!"
"Stay here," the man whispered softly to me, giving my head a reassuring rub.
He straightened himself, turned around, and confidently strode toward the approaching group, flexing his wrists as he went.
With an ear-splitting howl that echoed through the night, he revealed itself—a creature of primal strength, a fusion of human cunning and animalistic power. Its eyes, a luminous amber, glimmered with a mixture of primal hunger and determination.
The leader of the roughs, a burly man with a shaven head and tattoos adorning his arms, stepped forward, attempting to mask his own trepidation. He brandished his switchblade, flicking it open with a metallic rasp, and barked a challenge at the werewolf, hoping to intimidate the creature with his audacity. Yet, the man remained unfazed.
The clash began. The roughs circled him, striking out with desperate blows, their fists connecting with nothing but empty air. The creature, fueled by the relentless drive to survive, moved with preternatural speed and agility, its claws slashing through the air, tearing through the fabric of resistance.
The man launched himself at the roughs, lunging forward and knocking them off balance with swift and brutal strikes. Each blow, fueled by the beast's supernatural strength, sent the roughs reeling, their bodies crashing against the unforgiving walls.
One by one, the roughs succumbed to his relentless onslaught.
They stumbled, their bodies bruised and bloodied, gasping for breath as the beast closed in on them. The leader, the last man standing, dropped to his knees, his weapon slipping from his trembling grasp. The man loomed over him, its amber eyes glinting with a mix of triumph and something resembling pity.
"Get lost! Right now!" the man roared, and those roughs quickly struggled to get up and run away.
He then turned around, and in that instant, the dangerous aura dissipated, leaving his eyes warm and penetrating.
"Are you okay?" he asked with a gentle smile.
"Yes, I'm fine," I said with embarrassment.
Just then, his cell phone rang, and he apologized before answering the call.
I couldn't hear the conversation, but he fell silent for a few seconds before saying, "I'm sorry, Joyce, but I already have plans. I can't make any promises. I have some matters to attend to here, so I must end the call now."
"Joyce? Could it be Kingsley's sister on the other end of the line?" I wondered.
Then, the man hung up the phone, turned to me, and asked, "Where are you headed? I can give you a ride."
I hastily declined, saying, "Don't bother. I'll manage."
"It's late now, and I'll be worried if I let you get home alone. I happen to be in the city for something. It's not much trouble to drop you off on my way."
At this point, refusing would seem insensitive.
"In that case, I appreciate your help," I said.
During the journey, he engaged in occasional conversation with me, skillfully maintaining a sense of balance. Rather than prying into why I was here, he focused on my unique phone pendant, inquiring where I acquired it.
Upon learning that I had crafted it myself, his eyes displayed surprise, and he didn't hesitate to offer praise.
Such comfort and acknowledgment were things I could never receive from Kingsley.
Kingsley didn't love me, and thus he never truly appreciated me.
"We've arrived, right?" He slowed down the car.
I glanced outside and nodded, "Just drop me off here."
As the car came to a stop, I said, "Wait for me a moment."
I stepped out of the vehicle, crossed the road, and swiftly purchased two cups of coffee from the café across the street.
Knocking on the car window, I waited for it to slide down and handed him a cup of coffee. "Thank you."
He accepted the coffee and whispered, "I'm Finley. And you?"
Pausing for a moment, I smiled and replied, "I'm Starry."