Pursuing My Rejected Luna by Cara Anderson novel Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Skye

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With that thought in mind, I pull myself together and go in search of my aunt. I may have agreed to help her out of guilt-I can’t stand to see that woman cry. Not that I’d ever tell her that. I still can’t forgive what she’s done to our family–but now, I see how helping her just might work in my favor. And it’s time we have another chat.

Because the truth is, I need her. I need my father’s pack. I need their support if I want to walk away from this marriage with anything resembling dignity. A divorce might be easy for most wolves-even for Alphas-but not for Lunas. The title that gives me prestige also binds me in chains. My bond with Jaxon isn’t just between two people. It’s between two packs.

Without my father’s blessing, without Diana convincing him to support me, a divorce would be a disgrace for both packs. I’d have no standing anywhere. No home. No future.

I can let Cassandra have Jaxon. But I won’t do it by destroying myself in the process.

And Diana with her influence over my father, with her position as Luna of his pack-is the key to making sure that doesn’t happen.

It’s time I make her understand that my help doesn’t come free.

Diana is in the guest room when I find her, staring out the window with red-rimmed eyes.

“Any news?” she asks when she sees me, her voice thick with hope and dread.

I close the door behind me. “I’m working on it.”

“Working on it how? Did you talk to Jaxon? Did he-”

“No.” I cut her off gently. “I didn’t ask him.”

Her face crumples. “Skye, please. I know things between us are complicated, but Dalton is my son. If there’s any chance-”

“Jaxon won’t help.” I keep my voice steady. “Even if I begged. Even if I gave him everything he wanted. It’s too risky, too politically complicated, and more importantly-he doesn’t care enough about you or me or Dalton to take that risk.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” She screams.

Diana’s words come out as almost a wail. “Am I supposed to just accept that my boy is rotting in some cell without even knowing what he’s accused of?”

I watch her fall apart – this woman who married my father, who took my mother’s place, who I’ve resented for years. It should make me happy to see her world crumbling. It doesn’t.

“We don’t need Jaxon. I’ll help you,” I infuse all the confidence I can muster into my response.

She looks up sharply. “How?”

“I have my own connections. People who owe me favors.” I move closer, lowering my voice. “But if I’m going to cash them in to help you, I need something from you in return.”

Her expression shifts-hope mixing with wariness. “What?”

“I don’t know yet.” I meet her eyes steadily, refusing to give her more details just yet. “When the time comes, I’ll

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Chapter 18

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need something. And you’ll give it to me without asking questions. That’s the price for my help.”

“That’s a dangerous promise to make blindly.”

“Then don’t make it.” I shrug, even though my heart is pounding. “Go home. Accept that Dalton is lost.”

She flinches at the cruelty of it. We both know I’m manipulating her grief, using her desperation against her.

But I need her. I need what she can give me-her influence over my father, her support when the time comes to break free of Jaxon, to get the divorce that will protect my child’s future.

“We’re family,” she says finally, her voice breaking. “You know I’ll be there for you. Even without you having to ask.”

The words are an olive branch. An offer of reconciliation that I can’t accept. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

But I can use them.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” I say. “I’ll contact you when I have news.”

That night, I write the letter.

It takes three drafts before I get the tone right. Not too desperate. Not too formal. Familiar enough that he’ll know it’s really me, but careful enough that if it’s intercepted, it won’t reveal too much.

I need your help. Call it in if you want-I know I still owe you for… well, you know. But this is important. More important than I can explain in a letter.

Please.

I address it simply. No name. Just the nickname I’ve used for him since we were kids and I was trying to make him laugh during a formal dinner with his terrifying father.

Wolfy.

It’s ridiculous. Childish. But it’s ours. And more importantly, it’s something only I would call him.

If this letter reaches anyone else, they’ll think it’s a joke. But if it reaches him…

I fold the letter carefully, seal it in an envelope. Address it with just that one word.

Then I wait until morning.

Sarah is one of the few omegas in the pack I trust completely. She’s young, efficient, and-most importantly— she knows how to keep her mouth shut.

“I need you to do something for me,” I tell her, handing her the envelope. “But it has to stay between us. No one can know I sent this. Not the pack. Not the Alpha. No one.”

Her eyes widen slightly, but she nods. “Of course, Luna.”

“Go to the nearest city-at least two hours from here. Use the public mail system. Pay in cash. Don’t give your name.”

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