THE NEUTRAL ZONE

CHAPTER 2

Freya’s pov

The sleek black car that pulled up to the hall's entrance made everyone stop and stare.

The Valenwood seal gleamed silver on the door, subtle but unmistakable to those who knew what to look for.

My subordinate Marcus stepped out, his face carefully neutral as he scanned the crowd that had spilled out of the hall to watch my humiliation. His eyes found mine and something fierce flashed across his expression.

"Miss Valenwood," he said, his voice carrying across the sudden silence. "Your mother sent me to bring you home."

At that exact moment, everyone began to whisper.

"Valenwood? Did he say Valenwood?"

"That's one of the four great families on the Royal Council."

"No, that can't be right. She's just an omega."

I walked toward the car, my head high despite everything, and that's when Rowan's voice cut through the murmurs.

"Of course." His laugh was sharp and bitter. "No wonder you refused my money, Freya. You'd already latched onto another big shot, hadn't you?"

I stopped, my hand on the car door. Every instinct screamed at me to just leave, to let him believe whatever he wanted. But I'd spent three years being silent, being small, letting him define who I was.

Not anymore.

I turned back to face him. Rowan stood on the hall steps with Selene clinging to his arm, his face twisted with something ugly. Jealousy? Wounded pride? It didn't matter anymore.

"You mean nothing to me now, Rowan," I said clearly, my voice carrying across the courtyard. "Don't let me hear you slander me again."

His eyes widened, and he stumbled back a step, like my words had actually hit him. Selene caught him, her hands steadying him as her eyes narrowed at me with pure venom.

I felt Marcus go tense beside me, his hand moving toward Rowan like he was going to teach him exactly what happened to people who disrespected the Valenwood heir. But I raised my hand slightly to stop him.

Rowan wasn't worth it. He had never been.

I was the one at fault here. I’d spoiled him with so much affection and turned a blind eye to how despicable he actually was.

I slid into the car without another word. As Marcus closed the door and moved to the driver's seat, I caught Selene's voice drifting through the window.

"How arrogant! Did you see the way she looked at you? Like you were beneath her!"

The car pulled away, and I finally let myself breathe.

The scenery outside the window shifted slowly, transforming from the rough, unpolished territory of Rowan's pack to something else entirely. We passed through checkpoints that most people didn't even know existed, barriers hidden by magic and geography that kept my family's territory concealed from the world.

The more we drove, the more buildings began to appear, sleek and modern, interspersed with traditional pack structures that had stood for centuries. This was wealth that didn't need to announce itself, power that didn't require validation.

This was home, and I’d almost allowed Rowan to turn me into his slave, forgetting I came from one of the most powerful families.

The car stopped in front of the main pack house, a sprawling estate that managed to be both imposing and beautiful. I'd grown up here, but after three years away, it felt foreign somehow. Like I no longer quite fit.

I found my mother in her office, exactly where I expected her to be. Papers covered her massive desk, files stacked in neat piles that spoke of the endless responsibilities of leading one of the most powerful packs in the territory.

"So you finally came back after getting hurt," she said without looking up.

The words landed coldly. No embrace, no concern, no warmth. Just that flat acknowledgment of my failure.

My chest tightened. Even here, in my home, there was nothing for me.

If this had been Iris, my adopted sister, our mother would have already rushed to her side, would have comforted her, would have shown some kind of emotion. But for me, there was only disappointment.

"Where's Iris?" I asked, hiding the hurt in my voice. Iris was usually glued to our mother's side, soaking up attention like a sponge.

"Medical treatment abroad," my mother replied shortly. "She'll return when she's ready." Finally, she looked up, her eyes assessing and cold. "Now that you're back, we need to discuss your responsibilities. You're the heir, Freya. The pack comes first. Always."

She pulled out a stack of documents and slid them across the desk toward me.

I picked them up, scanning the contents, and my stomach dropped. Marriage profiles. Four of them, complete with photographs and detailed information about bloodlines, territory holdings, political connections.

And they were all old. Not just older than me, but old enough to be my father.

"Are you serious?" I stared at her in disbelief. "These men are ancient!"

"Those men… they are powerful alphas with strong connections to the Royal Council," my mother corrected sharply. "Any one of them could help you secure your position and strengthen our pack's standing. You should be grateful I've narrowed it down to the most advantageous matches."

Grateful! That nasty word again.

"I'm not marrying some old man just to make political connections," I spat.

This isn't about what you want, Freya. This is about duty. About responsibility. You failed your little experiment with that Thornwick boy, so now you do what's necessary for the pack."

Something inside me cracked. Of course that was all it was about. "Is that all I am to you? A tool? A bargaining chip to be traded for political advantage?"

"Don't be dramatic."

"I'm serious!" My voice rose despite my efforts to control it. Tears burned behind my eyes. "Why do I get treated like this? Why does Iris, who isn't even your biological daughter, receive more love and warmth than I ever have?!"

My mother's expression hardened. "Don't you dare compare yourself to Iris. And don't be willful. You have a duty to this pack."

"Then you marry them!" I threw the documents back on her desk. "If these alliances are so important, you handle it yourself!"

Freya—"

"No! I won't do it. I won't marry some stranger just because you think it's good for the pack. I'm not your pawn."

My mother stood, her chair scraping against the floor. "If you refuse to fulfill your responsibilities, then perhaps you shouldn't be heir at all."

The threat hung in the air between us.

"Fine," I said, my voice shaking with anger and hurt. "But you of all people know there’s no one more suitable than me for this position— or you’d be pushing your favorite daughter’ into that throne.”

I turned and walked out before she could respond, before the tears threatening to spill could give her the satisfaction of seeing me break.

I made it to my room and collapsed on the bed, my phone clutched in my hand. There was only one person I wanted to talk to right now.

Aurora answered on the first ring. "Freya! You're back! Tell me you're back for good this time."

Just hearing her voice made something loosen in my chest. Aurora had been my best friend since childhood, the old Beta's daughter who'd grown up alongside me in the pack house. She was one of the few people who'd never treated me like an obligation.

"Can we meet?" I asked. "I need to get out of here."

Twenty minutes later, I was pouring out everything to Aurora over coffee at her apartment. The coronation, the humiliation, my mother's marriage schemes, all of it came tumbling out in a rush.

"What a scumbag!" Aurora practically shouted when I finished. "Rowan Thornwick is officially on my list. If I ever see him, I'm going to—"

"It's fine," I cut her off, even managing a weak smile. "He's not worth it."

"Still." Aurora's eyes flashed. "And your mother! Trying to marry you off to some old men like you're a piece of property. That's ridiculous…" She paused, then her expression shifted to something mischievous. "You know what you need? A night out. Let me take you somewhere fun."

"I don't know if I'm in the mood—"

"The neutral zone," Aurora interrupted. "There's this amazing club. It'll be perfect."

I blinked. "What neutral zone?"

Aurora gasped dramatically. "Oh my god, you really were isolated out there in Rowan's backwater territory. The Lycan King designated part of his lands as neutral ground a few years ago. It's become the place where all the packs mingle, where the elite go to see and be seen. It's brilliant, actually. Strengthens connections between territories."

The Lycan King. My mother had mentioned him occasionally, always with a hint of respect in her voice. Young, powerful, accomplished, and apparently a political genius if he'd managed to create neutral ground that everyone accepted.

"Come on," Aurora urged. "You've been playing small for three years. Time to remind yourself who you really are."

She was right. I was Freya Valenwood, heir to one of the most powerful packs in the territory. Not Rowan's discarded omega. Not my mother's disappointing daughter.

"Okay," I said. "Let's go."

~

The club was everything Aurora promised. Music pulsed through the air, lights danced across the crowded floor, and everywhere I looked, I saw wolves from different packs mingling freely. No longer hiding behind the persona I'd worn for Rowan, I let myself relax, let my natural confidence show.

And people noticed.

Aurora disappeared to the restroom, leaving me at the bar. Almost immediately, a handsome man approached, his smile easy and charming.

"I haven't seen you here before," he said, leaning against the bar beside me. "I definitely would have remembered someone like you."

The alcohol had made me warm and loose. "Is that your best line?"

"I've got better ones." His eyes traveled over me appreciatively. "But I thought I'd start simple."

I was about to politely shut him down when his hand moved to my waist, proprietary and unwelcome.

I recoiled immediately from his touch, but he just pressed harder.

"What are you—" I started.

Strong fingers wrapped around the man's wrist, yanking him away from me with effortless strength.

I turned and my breath caught.

Dark eyes met mine, intense and magnetic, set in a face that was all sharp angles and controlled power. The stranger radiated authority, the kind that made everyone in his vicinity instinctively step back.

Our gazes locked, and my heart slammed against my ribs.