Pursuing My Rejected Luna by Cara Anderson novel Chapter 200

Chapter 200

Skye

I knew my heat was coming the moment my scent changed in the garden. Knew it the way you know a shift in weather-before the clouds, before the wind changes. Just the smell of petrichor in the air, different. My wolf lifted her head for the first time in almost a year.

I had time for one thought before I made a decision. I want to do one thing for myself first. I hadn’t known it would be the last decision I made freely for a while.

The boutique I pull up to is small and sells exactly what I’m looking for, the kind of shop that knows exactly what it sells and makes no apologies for it. Silk and lace. Things designed for specific purposes. And they align perfectly

with what I have in mind.

I’m looking at a display near the window when the saleswoman approaches. She’s older, warm-faced, the kind of wolf who has been around long enough to read a room-and a person’s scent-without making it awkward.

Her nostrils flare slightly when she gets close. She recovers smoothly, but I see it.

“Can I help you find something?” she asks. Then, a beat later, her voice dropping to something more private: ” Honey, are you sure you should be here this close to your heat?”

I laugh despite myself. “I won’t be long. I just-I want something nice. To surprise my mates.”

Mates. Plural. I still feel the small jolt of saying it out loud to a stranger. I can see it surprises her too when the saleswoman’s eyebrows rise. She doesn’t say anything for a moment.

“Both of them?” she eventually asks, her inquisitive nature getting the best of her.

“It’s complicated,” I hedge.

“It always is.” She moves toward a display of dark silk. “Come, tell me what you’re looking for.”

I follow her, and something about the warm private atmosphere of the shop-the fact that she’s a stranger who has no stake in my life-makes something in me loosen.

“Something that says I chose this,” I say. “I chose both of them. Not because of the bond, not because the situation made it the only option. Because I looked at both of them and decided.” I touch a piece of dark green silk. “I’ve been so reactive for the last year and a half. Just-responding to everything. The divorce, the custody battle, the mating ceremony. I want to walk through my front door for once having done something because I wanted to. Something that shows them I want to.”

The saleswoman is quiet for a moment, arranging something on the display.

“How long have you been together?” she probes, not even bothering to feign disinterest now.

“With Nicolai-my husband, technically-almost two years, Though the first year was complicated.”

“And the other one?”

“Jaxon.” His name in my mouth. “He’s my son’s father. And my second mate, though-it’s not-there isn’t really a word for it yet. We’re still figuring that out.”

“And your son?” She smiles fondly, her motherly instincts shining through. “He’s well?”

“He’s eleven months old and his first word was Nicolai’s name,” Why am I telling this woman my life’s story, I absently wonder. But it doesn’t stop the words from pouring out of my mouth. “Which is-yes. He’s very well.”

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She smiles at that. A real one.

And now you’re sharing a heat,” she says. Not prying. Just: acknowledging.

“First one since Benji was born.” I pick up a piece of cream lace, consider it, put it down. “And I’m hoping… Well, it’s coming now, regardless. Obviously.” I glance at her with an embarrassed smile. “Hence the shopping.”

“Hence the shopping,” she agrees. She holds up a piece of dark green silk against the light. “This one. Trust me.”

“Why that one?” It’s beautiful but I’m curious about her certainty.

“Because you said you want it to say I chose this. Green says chosen. Red says come get me.” She tilts her head.” You don’t need to tell them to come get you. You want them to know you came to them.”

I look at it again with fresh eyes. “Yes,” I say. “That’s the one.”

She wraps it. Adds a second piece without asking-black, understated, something she seems to feel strongly about.

“For the one who worries,” she says, when I look at the addition. “There’s always one who worries.”

“There are two who worry,” I say. “In different ways.”

She ties the bag with a ribbon and hands it over. “Good luck,” she offers. “With all of it. The heat and the mates and the figuring it all out.” She squeezes my hand briefly. “It sounds like you found something worth fighting for.

“I think I did,” I smile back.

I leave feeling lighter and more excited for what comes next than I have since I realized what my changing scent

meant.

Maybe everything’s going to work out the way I hope it will after all.

Cara Anderson Author

Thank you for reading!

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