Pursuing My Rejected Luna by Cara Anderson novel Chapter 184

Chapter 184

Nicolai

Armed with the information from my lawyer, I head to the west wing to find Jaxon. He’s working in his office and looks up when I come in, closes his laptop, and gives me his full attention. Almost like he’d been waiting for me to show up and wondered what took me so long.

“What are you going to do about Ironwood?” I ask, no preamble. He doesn’t require preamble-I’ve learned this about him.

“I don’t know yet,” he says.

“That’s not a plan.” I grumble.

“No,” he agrees. “It isn’t. I’m still working on it.”

I sit across from him. The west wing room that’s become his-his photo of Benji on the desk, his things on the shelves, the particular imprint a person leaves when they’ve inhabited a space for months.

“While you work on it,” I say, “my pack is developing opinions about my fitness to lead. Because I appear to have invited competition into my home.” I hold his gaze. “Those opinions will calcify if left long enough.”

“I know.” He doesn’t look away. “I understand the difficult position this puts you in. I’m trying to figure out what I can offer that makes it worth it.”

“I don’t want you to offer me anything,” I argue. “I want honesty. When you know what the plan is, tell me immediately. Don’t overthink it-don’t shape it for what you think I can handle. Tell me.” I reiterate. “The same thing I ask of her. The same thing I try to give.”

Our gazes remain locked, daring the other to look away. Neither of us does.

“I can do that.” He complies.

“Good.” I stand up to leave, having said all I came to say.

“Nicolai.” Jaxon calls, apparently not done with our conversation. “For what it’s worth-” He stops, collects his thoughts, then starts again. “The thing you did last night. Not stopping it. I imagine that was hard for you.”

“Yes,” I admit, but give him nothing more.

“I know it was. I’m not unaware of what you’re giving up to try to be the kind of man who does that. Had things been different between Skye and I the first time around, I never would have let you in.”

I look at him with one eyebrow raised, silently telling him to get to the point.

“Thank you,” is all he says.

I just nod and leave. I may have let him kiss her, but I’m not ready to start having heart to hearts with the man.

That evening I find Skye in her office. She looks up the expression she has when she’s been working and is glad to be interrupted.

“I need to tell you something,” I preface. “And it’s not intended to make you feel guilty. I just want you to have the full picture.”

She closes her laptop. “Tell me.”

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I tell her about the calls. About my lawyer’s advice. About the reputational exposure and the pack’s watchful quiet and how that might change if we don’t address them soon, the whole overview of what we’re facing in terms of how the world reads us.

She listens completely. Doesn’t interrupt until I finish. “What do you need from me? What can I do specifically to make this better for you?”

I think about this honestly. She asked for specific, so specific is what I give her.

“I need you to be visible. As my mate, my Luna. I’m not asking you to put on a show, that’s not what this is. And Y know you’ve had your hands full with Benji and you’ve been going through a lot, but I need you to be present with me. The pack needs to see that you’re not uncertain about what you chose. That this is a decision you’re proud of, not a situation you’re navigating. If they believe you’re uncertain, they’ll decide you’re available Available to doubt. Available to influence.”

“I’m not uncertain,” she says firmly, confidently.

“I know. Show them.”

She nods. “Okay… and Nicolai?”

“Mm.”

“Thank you,” she says. “For telling me instead of shutting me out. For-” She gestures, which means: all of this. The calls. The lawyer. The conversation with Jaxon. The morning after. All of it that you could have managed alone.

“I’m working on it,” I tell her. It’s definitely a work in progress.

She looks at me with the expression she has when she’s about to say something she means completely. She walks around her desk to meet me and wraps her arms around me, pulling me close.

“You’re doing better than you think,” she says then seals it with a kiss.

Late that night, after Skye has shown me, rather enthusiastically, what a good job she thinks I’m doing and has fallen asleep, my phone buzzes on the nightstand.

Dmitry Volkov. Tatiana’s father. The ally whose relationship I damaged when I refused his daughter definitively- not dramatically, not with hostility, but finally and without ambiguity.

The message is three sentences long. Formal. Measured. Worded with the precision of someone who wants plausible deniability about what they’re actually communicating.

Certain parties in the eastern territories have become interested in developments at the Woolf estate. I thought you should know. Out of respect for our history.

I read it several times before setting the phone down.

I’ve been thinking about the cost of our arrangement to my reputation as an inconvenience. Another problem on a list of problems to be dealt with at some indiscriminate time. Something to be handled by lawyer calls and careful pack politics and Skye’s visible presence as my mate.

I’m suddenly aware that it may be becoming something more active than that. Certain parties have become interested. Someone is watching us.

Someone is looking at what they read as weakness-the Woolf Alpha who can’t hold his mate, the arrangement that defies convention, her former mate under my roof-and deciding whether that weakness represents an opportunity.

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I lie in the dark. Skye’s breathing is even next to me, peaceful. I stare at the mating mark on her shoulder, a

eminder she’s mine. Mine to love and mine to protect.

I need to know who the certain parties are before they decide to move.

And I need to know before anyone in this house does.

Cara Anderson Author

Thank you for reading!

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