Pursuing My Rejected Luna by Cara Anderson novel Chapter 241

Ch.13

Noah

As soon as I make it back to my office, I pick up the phone to call Jaxon. I’m not sure why I’m in such a hurry to talk to the man everyone keeps comparing me to, especially after I just lost my shit with the last guy who did it. But at the end of the day, the asshole is still my best friend.

“Reeves filed,” I say the moment he picks up. He doesn’t respond right away, there’s a rustling sound in the background and I can swear I hear someone moaning through the phone. “Is that… Am I catching you at a bad time?”

“I figured he would,” Jaxon says, ignoring my question. I hear a door close and the background noise disappears. He’s been positioning for this for two years. Your predecessor-“He groans then admits, “I didn’t handle the warning signs as well as I should have.”

“You had other things happening.” I smile, thinking about where he is now and the happiness he’s found. At least one of us got a happy ending.

“I did.” You can hear it in his voice-the warmth of someone who has landed somewhere good and wants to share that happiness. “But that’s no excuse. What do you need from me?”

I tell him what I need. He gives me the Reeves history-the territorial philosophy, the likely strategy, the pressure points. He’s thorough. He remembers things clearly and communicates them efficiently, which is why we worked well together for years.

“He’ll push until you push back,” Jaxon warns. “Not aggressively-he’s too careful for that. But he’s testing to see what kind of Alpha you are. Don’t let him draw you into his game.”

“What kind of Alpha am I?” I can’t help but ask.

“The patient kind,” Jaxon says. “Which will confuse him. He’s used to either dominance or deference. Patient doesn’t fit his model. You can use that to your advantage.”

“Good,” I nod to myself, happy with the idea that I could put my adversary off-balance. “That’s good advice.”

“The only kind I give.” Jaxon jokes, playfully. A new personality trait he’s recently developed.

We talk through the response strategy for a few more minutes. I ask about Benji, Skye and Nicolai. The adoration. in his voice for his mate and son are unmistakable. There’s even fondness for Nicolai.

“You sound tired,” Jaxon observes before we hang up.

“New Alpha,” I shrug it off. “It’s an adjustment.”

“You’re better at it than I was, you know. I mean that. The pack is in better hands.”

A flush of warmth washes over me at his words. “Thank you,” I say earnestly. “For that and the Reeves intel.”

“Call me when it resolves. Or before, if you need to,” He offers. “But now I really have to get back to my mate. Can’t let Nicolai have all the fun.”

I laugh as he hangs up. I knew I heard moaning when he answered. He really is a good friend to walk away from a woman like Skye to talk to my dumb ass.

That night I lie in bed and take inventory of my symptoms. The temperature dysregulation is persistent. Every night, every morning, the cold lives from the inside.

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Headaches are more common than not these days. Today’s was the third in ten days. It hit out of nowhere, behind he left eye, with enough force that I lost the thread for half a second. Cole saw it. I could see it in his body language.

Then there’s the fatigue. It’s always present to some degree but not debilitating. Not yet, anyway. It’s the kind that accumulates-each night’s sleep slightly less restorative than it should be. And the deficit’s growing.

According to the historical records, the next stage of progression involves the neurological symptoms becoming more frequent and more severe. Difficulty concentrating. Occasional confusion. The beginning of the body’s systems losing their coordination.

I am, by my own careful assessment, in the early stage. I have time. The question I’ve been avoiding is what am I willing to do with it?

Reuniting with Cassandra is not an option. What she did was-monstrous is what it was. I’d rather let the disease take me than crawl back to her and beg her to save my life.

Which leaves the one documented case. The chosen mate option. The possibility that I could have the same forty- three years he got. Or maybe more

I think about Piper. It might not be love but it’s always been easy with her. Maybe love would come later.

I think about the cold in this room that doesn’t respond to the blankets I’ve added or the thermostat I’ve cranked up to the deepest pit of hell levels.

I think about what I’m willing to do but I don’t have an answer tonight. So I close my eyes and try to sleep.

The room is too cold.

Cara Anderson

Author

Thank you for reading!

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