Beyond The Pack's Judgement

Ash and Embers

Freya’s POV

The world stopped spinning. For a moment, there was no cold drizzle, no mud on my jeans and no shadow of the past hanging over me.. there was only the heat of Declan’s mouth against mine warmly firm… then reality slammed into me.

I shoved his chest with every ounce of strength I had. I wasn't just pushing a man.. I was pushing away the son of the man who had murdered my father.

Declan tumbled back onto the grass, eyes wide and pupils blown so large they swallowed the blue.

“What are you doing?” I gasped, my voice trembling. My hands were shaking so hard I had to clench them into fists.

Declan sat up, brushing grass off his expensive jacket. He didn’t look guilty.. he looked… dazed. Then a slow casual smirk spread across his face, though it didn’t quite reach those intense eyes.

“Easy, Freya,” he said huskily as he stood up, looking down at me with a playful glint. “It was an accident. We tumbled, our faces were close… it was just a mishap of physics. A collision of lips. Mistakes happen.”

“A mistake?” I repeated, my face burning. I felt like a fool and my heart was thudding so loudly I was sure he could hear it with his wolf ears. “Yeah. A huge one.”

I didn’t wait for him to say another word. I turned on my heel, scrambled up my porch steps and practically threw myself inside. I slammed the door and turned the deadbolt, leaning my back against the peeling wood. My breath came in hitches.

Through the thin walls, I heard his muffled voice.

“See you around, Freya!”

I heard his footsteps fade away.

I was alone in my tiny cramped apartment. I slowly raised my fingers to my lips. They were tingling. No one had ever kissed me like that. No one had ever dared to touch the “dirty blood“ girl, let alone hold her like she was something precious.

A small smile tugged at the corners of my mouth.

Declan Ramsey kissed me, I thought.

Then.. I caught sight of my reflection in the cracked mirror by the door. Grease on my forehead, dark circles under my eyes and a wild look in my expression.. the smile died instantly.

“Get a grip, Freya,” I whispered to the empty room. “He’s a Ramsey. You’re a Nolan. This ends in a guillotine for you if you’re not careful.”

***

The next morning came far too quickly.

I sat up, clutching the blanket to my chest and staring at my parent's photograph.

My father looked so handsome in his uniform,l and my mother was radiant, her laughter captured in a frozen moment of time.

I suddenly felt sick. How could I have let him kiss me? How could I have enjoyed it?

I could still see it if I closed my eyes... the wooden platform, the cheering crowd.. and there in the front row, a young Declan Ramsey, barely older than me, clapping as the blade fell. To him it had been a show.. a lesson in pack justice.. to me it was the end of the world.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered to the photo. “I won't let it happen again.”

I hardened my heart, pulled on my work boots and grabbed my bag. I had a shift at the garage and I needed the money more than I needed to wallow in a fantasy that would only get me killed.

I yanked my door open, ready to face the cold morning air and I stopped dead.

Declan was leaning against the rusted railing of my porch, a steaming paper cup in each hand and he looked annoyingly handsome in a simple black t-shirt that stretched over his broad shoulders.

“Morning, Freya,” he chirped, offering a cup. “Black coffee. No sugar. I took a guess.”

I didn't take the coffee. I didn't even look him in the eye. I just hissed under my breath, stepped around him and started walking down the street.

“Whoa, okay. No coffee then,” he said, setting the cups down on the railing and jogging to catch up. He fell into step beside me, his long strides making my fast walk look like a stroll. “You’re grumpy in the morning. I'll make a note of that for the future.”

“There is no future, Declan,” I snapped, staring straight ahead. “Go home. Go back to your mansion!”

“I like the scenery here better,” he teased, leaning in closer. “Besides, I wanted to make sure you didn't have a concussion from our… little tumble last night.”

I stopped walking and turned to face him, my blood boiling.

“What do you want? Is this a game to you? See if you can make the pack pariah fall for the golden boy?”

Declan’s expression softened, his blue eyes turning serious.

“It’s not a game, Freya. I like you. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since I walked into that garage.”

“Stop,” I said, my voice cracking. “Just stop. Do you even know who I am? I’m the daughter of the people your father executed. I’m the 'dirty blood' your friends use for target practice!”

“I don't care about that,” he insisted, reaching for my hand.

I pulled back as if his touch would burn me.

“Well, I do! I remember that day, Declan. I remember the crowd. I remember you. You were there! You were cheering! You watched my father die and you clapped like it was a circus act!”

The color drained from Declan’s face. He opened his mouth then closed it, his broad shoulders slouching.

“Freya… I was little,” he said quietly. “My father told me it was a day of victory. I was a stupid kid trying to make my dad proud. I didn't understand… I didn't know it was your father. If I could go back...”

“But you can't!” I yelled. “You’re his son. You’re the next Alpha. You represent everything that destroyed my life. We are enemies, Declan. Get that through your thick head?!”

“Is that really how you feel?”

The voice wasn't Declan’s. It was high, cold and dripping with authority.

We both turned and standing a few feet away was a woman who looked like she’d stepped off a fashion runway. She had long blonde hair tied in a sleek ponytail and sharp green eyes that were currently narrowed at me like I was a cockroach she wanted to crush.

“Vanessa?” Declan breathed, his eyes widening.

The woman stepped forward. She didn't even look at Declan.. her gaze was fixed on me.

“So, this is the little 'dirty blood' girl everyone is talking about,” Vanessa said, her voice laced with venom. “I must say, Declan, your taste has plummeted.”

“Vanessa, stop,” Declan warned, his voice dropping an octave.

She ignored him, stepping into my personal space. She was taller than me and she radiated an aura of power that made my wolf cower inside me.

“I am Vanessa Langford,” she said, tilting her chin up. “Declan’s future wife and the future Luna of this pack. And you… you are nothing. A mistake left over from a traitorous bloodline.”

My heart pounded but I refused to look away.

“I’m not interested in your husband-to-be,” I said, my voice surprisingly steady. “You can have him.”

Vanessa’s eyes flashed with rage.

“And yet, here you are, trying to charm him.”

“Vanessa, that’s enough!” Declan stepped between us but Vanessa was faster.

Crack!

Her palm collided with my cheek so hard my head snapped to the side. I stumbled back, my vision swimming as the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth as my lip split against my teeth.

“Freya!” Declan roared.

He grabbed Vanessa’s arm, his face twisted in Alpha fury.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Vanessa didn't look scared. She looked smug.

“I’m doing what’s necessary, Declan! You’re being blinded by some low-life witch’s spell. She’s a Nolan! She’s probably trying to seduce you just to poison the pack from the inside. I’m saving you!”

I didn't stay to hear the rest. With tears stinging my eyes and my cheek throbbing, I turned and ran.

***

Declan’s POV

“Get out of my sight, Vanessa,” I growled, my claws beginning to prick at my fingertips.

“Declan, don't be dramatic,” she huffed, rubbing her arm where I’d grabbed her. “She’s a traitor. You should be thanking me for putting her in her place. Your father expects us at the manor for breakfast. Don't be late.”

She turned and sauntered away as if she hadn't just shattered my world.

I looked down the street but Freya was gone. The image of her face burned in my mind and I felt like a monster.

I walked back to the manor in a trance of cold rage. I didn't want breakfast. I wanted to burn the whole world down!

When I stepped into my father’s study, my father, Alpha Victor, was standing by the window and he didn't turn around.

Vanessa was sitting in one of the armchairs, daintily sipping tea. She looked up at me and gave a small wicked smile.

“Declan,” my father said. His voice was low, vibrating with the kind of power that usually made men drop to their knees. “Sit down.”

“I’d rather stand,” I said tightly.

He turned and his face was of disappointment and fury.

“I heard an interesting story today. It seems my son, the future Alpha has been spending his time chasing a gutter rat. A Nolan, no less.”

I glared at Vanessa. She didn't blink.

“She’s a member of this pack, Dad,” I said. “And she was being harassed.”

“She is a cancer!” Father roared, slamming his fist onto the desk. The wood splintered under his strength. “Her father tried to overthrow me! Her mother was a spy! And you… you are out there kissing her in the dirt like a common dog?”

“I love her!” The words jumped out of my throat before I could stop them.

The silence that followed was deafening. My father’s eyes turned a dark predatory amber and Vanessa gasped, her teacup rattling against the saucer.

“You love… a traitor’s daughter?” Father whispered. The quietness of his voice was scarier than the shouting as he turned to the two guards standing by the door. “Beta Jensen. Take four men and go to the Nolan girl's shack!”

My heart stopped.

“Dad, what are you doing?”

Father's eyes were cold as ice.

“I am cleaning up your mess. Bring the girl here. I want her bloodied and beaten. I want her to understand that she does not touch what belongs to the Ramsey line. And then, we will exile her... if she survives the interface.”

“No!”

The sound came out of me as a literal wolf’s roar.

As the guards moved toward the door, I moved faster..

I blurred across the room, slamming my body in front of the exit. My bones cracked and shifted as I partially transformed. My claws extended, black and razor-sharp and my vision turned a brilliant glowing blue.

“Declan, move,” my father commanded, his own Alpha aura flaring.

“Touch her and you die,” I growled at his men, my voice sounding more like a wolf than a man. I bared my fangs at the guards who hesitated, looking between me and father. “If even one hair on Freya's head is harmed, I will tear this pack apart piece by piece. Try me!”