From Rejected Mate to Luna (Julia White) novel Chapter 136

Chapter 136

Julia’s POV

I couldn’t understand why I’d suddenly started crying. The tears just came, unbidden and unwelcome, streaming down my face before I could stop them. Matthew’s arms around me felt safe, but a lifetime of conditioning made me stiffen. I’d learned early that my tears made people uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry,” I managed to say between hiccuping breaths. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

My mind flashed back to childhood, to our house where Mom was perpetually frazzled trying to care for three kids on her own. Eric, being the oldest and the only boy, got the most attention–mostly scolding for his mischief, but attention nonetheless. Sophia, the baby of the family, naturally required more care with her delicate constitution and constant demands.

And then there was me, stuck in the middle, learning to fade into the background.

I remembered one particular afternoon when I was maybe seven or eight. I’d hurt myself–I don’t even recall how–and started crying in the living room.

Mom had been in the kitchen with Sophia balanced on her hip, stirring something on the stove. When she heard me, she rushed out, her face pinched with

worry.

The kettle began to whistle shrilly from the kitchen. Mom’s expression changed instantly, morphing from concern to frustration as the noise escalated

“Why are you always crying?” she’d snapped, roughly setting Sophia down on the couch. The sudden motion startled my little sister, who immediately began

wailing.

I froze, tears still streaming but now silent, terrified by Mom’s outburst. Two crying children and a screaming kettle had pushed her over the edge.

As an adult, I understood it wasn’t really about me–Mom was overwhelmed, exhausted, and stretched too thin. But that moment planted a seed of fear that grew into a persistent belief: my emotions were burdensome to others.

I became the “easy” child after that. Good grades, no complaints, handling my own problems. “Julia’s my low–maintenance one, Mom would proudly tell other parents, and I’d beam with pride while something inside me withered.

The irony came later when my careful self–containment evolved into what my family called my “odd personality” and “antisocial tendencies. The very trait they’d praised became something they criticized. I couldn’t win either way.

Now here I was, crying in front of Matthew, the Alpha of another pack. Part of me was mortified, certain he’d find my emotional display tiresome. Men in positions of power didn’t have time for weepy women.

But Matthew surprised me. Instead of impatience, his face showed concern–even a touch of panic. He seemed genuinely distressed by my tears, as if my pain was somehow his failure.

When his lips touched my forehead, I stilled. It wasn’t a passionate kiss or even a romantic one, It was pure comfort, gentle reassurance pressed against my skin. The simple gesture made something inside me unclench, like a fist that had been closed so long I’d forgotten it could open.

“You’re safe here,” he murmured against my hair. “Take all the time you need.”

His warmth enveloped me, steady and sure, like a heated blanket settling over my cold, raw nerves. I felt my shoulders relax, my breathing slow. For the first time in longer than I could remember, I didn’t feel the need to apologize for taking up space, for having feelings.

“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice still unsteady but stronger now. I pulled back slightly to look at him, wondering what I’d see in his expression. Would there be pity? Discomfort poorly disguised?

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Chapter 136

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But Matthew’s eyes held only warmth and something like understanding. As if he recognized the ghosts that haunted me without my having to explain

them.

‘I’m not usually like this, I felt compelled to add. ‘It’s just–everything is so much.”

Julia,” he said my name carefully, like it was something precious. ‘You’ve had your entire worldview shattered in a matter of days. You’d be concerning me if

you weren’t emotional.”

A small laugh escaped me, watery but genuine. ‘When you put it that way…”

“Besides,” he continued, his thumb gently brushing away a lingering tear from my cheek, “wolves are emotional creatures. We feel deeply–it’s part of what connects us to each other and to our instincts. Humans try to suppress feelings. We embrace them.”

The idea was revolutionary to me–emotions as strength rather than weakness. I’d spent so long trying to contain mine, to be the steady, reliable one who never caused problems.

“What happens now?” I asked softly, comfortable in the intimate space we’d created together.

Matthew’s eyes were warm as they held mine, that familiar connection between us deepening with each quiet moment. He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch lingering on my cheek.

“Now,” he said, his voice low and tender, “we enjoy this peace while it lasts.”

We settled into a comfortable silence, my head finding its natural place on his shoulder as his arm wrapped around me. The minutes slipped by unnoticed as we sat together, the gentle rhythm of his breathing almost lulling me to sleep.

The sudden blaring of my phone alarm made us both jump. I fumbled to silence it, feeling the pleasant bubble of our isolation burst.

“You actually set an alarm?” Matthew asked, looking at me with amused disbelief.

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