Pursuing My Rejected Luna by Cara Anderson novel Chapter 172

Chapter 172

Jyon

Sleep has been elusive lately, for obvious reasons. So when my phone buzzes on the nightstand next to me, startling me out of a hard-earned nap, my first instinct is to throw the damn thing. But what if it’s Skye, my wolf supplies.

I sit up with a groan and fumble for the offending device, knowing I won’t sleep now without knowing for sure. When I finally manage to squint at the screen through my droopy lids, the text waiting from Skye makes everything else fade into the background.

Skye: Nicolai and I talked. We’re going to figure this out together. All three of us. If you want that,

I read it three times. Then I put my phone face-down on the nightstand and stare at the wall for a while. Is it possible I’m still dreaming?

But if I were dreaming, surely I’d be enjoying the news instead of spiraling over the problem that text presents- the specific, complicated problem which is that I don’t know what that means. And I don’t know, more urgently, whether what I want and what she’s offering are the same thing or two different things I’m about to confuse for

each other.

If you want that. She’s asking what I want. Not telling me what she wants.

Which tells me exactly nothing about where I stand. And not knowing where I stand means I have no idea how to respond and that means I’m keeping her waiting. Like I said, spiraling.

So I do the thing I always do when I spiral. I call Noah.

“I have something to tell you,” I say the minute the call connects, sounding breathless.

“You sound like you need to sit down.” He already sounds exasperated, which is never a good sign.

“I’m already sitting down.” I tell him.

“Then I’ll sit down too.” A pause. “Go ahead.”

I tell him everything. The garden after the ceremony. The bond snapping into place. The conversation with Nicolai. Skye’s text this morning. All of it, in the flat, factual way I’ve learned to deliver things that are too large for emotional packaging.

Noah listens without interrupting. This is one of his qualities he doesn’t jump in. He lets you finish. When I’m done, there’s a long silence.

“So,” he says finally. “Nicolai Woolf. The most territorially possessive Alpha in three territories. Agreed to let you figure out a situation where you’re both bonded to his mate.”

“Yes.” At least that’s what Skye’s text indicates, though I hardly believe it too.

“How?” he asks.

“Honestly? I think because he’s a better man than either of us expected.” Admitting it is painful but I can’t deny it’s true.

“Hm.” The sound of Noah processing. “And Skye?”

“Doesn’t know what she wants yet.” Another painful admission.

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“But she asked if you want it.” He says as if he’s speaking to a child who should know the answer to a very simple Question.

“Yes,” is all I say because, I, in fact, do not know the answer.

“Jax.” His voice is careful, patient. “She wouldn’t have asked if she wasn’t hoping for a yes.”

I take a minute to contemplate that. He’s probably right. He’s usually right about Skye, which has always been one of the more aggravating things about him.

“She said if you want that,” I say. “Not I want this. Not here’s what I need from you. She asked me a question she didn’t answer herself.”

“Because she’s not sure yet,” Noah says. “Not because she doesn’t want it. Those are different things. You know that.”

I do know that. I also know that I’ve been wrong about Skye before. Have assumed things about what she felt and what she wanted and acted on those assumptions in ways that cost her three years of her life.

I’m not going to do that again. Not even when the bond is warm and present, buzzing away happily under my skin and telling me things I want to believe.

“I know,” I say. “I just don’t want to assume my way into another mistake.”

“That’s the most self-aware thing you’ve said to me in years,” Noah teases. “It’s also extremely annoying when I’m trying to give you permission to want something.”

“So what you’re saying is, just tell her my answer is yes. Then worry later about what I agreed to?” I clarify.

“That’s what I just said, Jax.” I can feel him rolling his eyes through the phone. “Geez, if you’re gonna call me for advice, the least you can do is pay attention.”

He sits quietly on the other end while I draft a response on my phone.

Yes.

I delete it. Too simple. Doesn’t acknowledge that this isn’t a simple question. She deserves more than a word.

I want whatever you want.

Delete it immediately too. That’s worse-it puts the entire weight of the decision back on her, which is its own form of pressure. Tell me what you want and I’ll want that too sounds deferential and is actually just another way of not committing.

I type several versions. Delete all of them.

What I finally send: I want to figure it out with you. Whatever that means. Yes.

I hit send before I can talk myself into a seventh draft. Her response comes faster than I expected.

Okay. Come find me later?

I reply immediately this time.

Later. Yes.

I put the phone down, feeling something that might be relief and might be terror and is probably both. Then Noah raises the thing I’ve been purposely avoiding since my conversation with Nicolai.

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“You understand,” he says, “that if this becomes something-if the three of you actually try to navigate this- people are going to have opinions.”

“I/know.” I groan.

“Your pack. Your allies. The council members who respect you because you present a certain kind of leadership.” He doesn’t make it an accusation. Just states it. “What does it do to how they see you if their Alpha is ” He pauses. “What would they call it? Second mate? Shared partner?”

I think about Ironwood. The wolves who pledged to me. The elders who expect a certain kind of Alpha. The pack, members who need to believe their leader is strong in the ways wolves historically measure strength-which does not include arrangements that don’t have precedent in living memory.

“I don’t know what they’d call it,” I admit. “There probably isn’t a word for it yet.”

“There’s the problem.” He points out unnecessarily.

“I know.” I lean back. “Does it change what I want?”

Noah waits.

“No,” I say. “But it complicates how we get there.” I think about Nicolai-about the call he mentioned getting from an ally. About the fact that he’s dealing with the same pressure from his side, the perception questions, the leadership optics. “Both of us are Alphas with packs that expect conventional arrangements. Neither of us has a clean answer for that yet.”

“And you’re both choosing to try anyway. That’s something, at least.”

“Yes.” I agree. “It’s something.”

“Okay,” Noah says. “I’m not going to talk you out of it. I just need you to go in with eyes open.”

“My eyes are open. This is the most complicated thing I’ve ever tried to do and my eyes are absolutely open.”

“Good.” He pauses. “Also-for what it’s worth-I’ve never seen you try this hard for anything that didn’t involve pack politics. She must be worth it.”

“She is.” I say confidently.

That part, at least, I’m completely sure of.

Cara Anderson Author

Thank you for reading!

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