Pursuing My Rejected Luna by Cara Anderson novel Chapter 112

Chapter 112

Skye

Nicolai doesn’t want me to see my sister. He says this quietly, his hands still at my waist, his voice controlled. There’s no obligation. I can have her reñioved.”

I lean back to look in his eyes and what I find makes my breath catch. There’s an inferno burning in them, promising a fiery death to anyone that hurts me. It’s so intense, I almost cave, almost give in to his wishes. But I’ can’t. Not this time.

“No.” I step back gently. Straighten my dress. Find my Luna face-the one I built over three years of impossible situations. “I’m not hiding in my own home.”

He reads me for a moment, his expression serious. But I don’t miss the hint of a smirk at my claiming his home as mine. Then he nods, trusting me to know my own mind.

Cassandra is brought to the formal sitting room, a room designed specifically to make visitors feel out of place, uncomfortable. I don’t offer her refreshments or play the endearing hostess in any way. And Mikhail stands watch at the door. Every detail is perfectly calibrated to make the message clear: you are not a welcome guest.

Cassandra doesn’t seem to notice. Or she pretends not to, something I’ve come to realize she’s quite good at. She looks polished. Composed. A version of herself I haven’t seen in months-since before the divorce, before the unraveling.

Which tells me immediately that this visit is made with one goal in mind, to remind me of my place in her world.

“Skye.” Her smile is warm in the manufactured way of someone who has practiced it. “Thank you for seeing me.”

“I almost didn’t.” I sit across from her. Cross my ankles. Keep my face perfectly still. “What do you want, Cassandra?”

“I wanted to tell you myself.” She folds her hands in her lap. “Jaxon and I have reconciled. I’m back at Ironwood Pack.”

The words land. But I make sure nothing shows on my face.

“That’s nice for you.” I reply flatly.

“I thought you should know. Given that he kept claiming to want you back-I wanted you to hear it from me that he’s moved on.” Her eyes sweep the room. The estate. Then down to my belly, and back up, loaded with implication. “You’ve clearly moved on too. So I suppose we can all stop pretending.”

I meet her smile with ice. “Cassandra. You drove hours to tell me my ex-husband has moved on. You could have

sent a text.”

Her composed smile flickers. Just for a second, but it’s enough to tell me she’s not as sure of herself as she’d have

me think.

“I also wanted to say-” She leans forward slightly. “Woman to woman. You were never going to be enough for him. I hope Woolf can give you what Jaxon couldn’t.”

“Get out.” Nicolai’s growl comes from the doorway. I hadn’t heard him come in.

Cassandra rises with a grace she doesn’t possess. She gives me one last look-something beneath the performance that I can’t quite read. Something calculating. Then she leaves.

1/3

།

I let myself feel it for a moment. The clean, uncomplicated anger of someone who has been lied to. Then I notice something else.

“She was too composed.” I replay the visit. The practiced warmth. The choreographed smile. “Cassandra has been unraveling for months. Desperate. Erratic. And she shows up here today like she’s read from a script.” I look at Nicolai. “That wasn’t a social call. She wanted something.”

Nicolai’s expression sharpens. Goes very still in the way it does when he’s assessing something or someone. Planning their demise.

“No,” he agrees. “It wasn’t.”

“She’s planning something.” As I say the words, I’m certain they’re true.

“Yes, I think you’re right.” He admits through clenched teeth.

We look at each other in the dark.

“What?” I ask.

“I don’t know yet.” He pulls my hands toward him, steady. “But I’m going to find out.”

Cara Anderson Author

Thank you for reading!

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