Pursuing My Rejected Luna by Cara Anderson novel Chapter 253

Ch. 25

Mah

I have a shit ton of work to do, a pile of it I’ve been neglecting over the past few days. I plan to go straight to my office and dig in but for some reason I won’t examine too closely, my feet carry me to her room.

As soon as I step through the door, it’s immediately clear Liam has visited fecently. There’s a small sock on the floor, a toy figure on the windowsill, the impression in the bed where Liam apparently curled up next to her. But he’s not with her now.

Cassandra is sitting up when I come in. Still pale. Still careful about how she holds herself. She watches me like I’m a predator stalking its prey. If only she knew how close she is to being right about that.

I don’t beat around the bush or draw out this conversation any longer than it needs to be. I do what I came here to do. I deliver the terms.

“If I catch you doing what you were doing before, you leave. Without Liam.” I don’t need to preface the threat. She knows I mean what I say and exactly why I said it.

A small whine escapes when I mention taking her son from her again but she doesn’t argue. Only nods. I don’t miss the relief in her eyes when she realizes what this means.

“You’ll work-administrative mostly, but other duties as assigned. If you argue or complain, even once, you leave. And unless it’s in the course of your job, you do not interact with the pack outside of my direction. Do you understand?” I deliver the ultimatum in a tone that leaves no room for argument.

“Yes, Noah. Thank-”

“Don’t thank me.” I interrupt. “If it weren’t for Liam, I’d send you on your way the moment you were well enough to go.” Nothing in my expression gives away the lie of that statement. “And keeping to yourself is for your own benefit. After your last stay in Ironwood, no one here trusts you. I can’t be around all the time to protect you from their wrath.”

I watch her face as I deliver blow after blow. She flinches slightly at that last statement but she doesn’t disagree or try to convince me otherwise. Instead, the expression she wears is something I keep not expecting from her. The look of someone who anticipated this condition and has already decided it’s fair.

“That’s a fair condition,” she confirms my suspicion.

“I’m not asking for your assessment of my fairness.” I snarl but she doesn’t look away, taking my venom like she knows it’s her due. “Do we have an agreement?”

“Yes,” she nods. “I agree. Thank you.”

I huff out a “good” and turn on my heels to leave. One more minute trapped in that room with her, sensing her discomfort, I might do something supremely stupid.

Like pulling her into my arms and purring for her.

The bond feels like a hook behind my navel, tugging me back when I walk away from her. But I’m prepared for it this time, getting a little more used to it every time it happens. Soon I won’t feel it at all. It’s a nice dream anyway.

I keep walking, go to my office. I sit at my desk and open the Reeves file because it’s the most urgent issue and, therefore, should be the thing most likely to hold my attention, blocking out the bond and the guilt it dumps on me. The Reeve’s file doesn’t force me to take a hard look at what kind of man I’m being.

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My phone buzzes. It;s a text from Piper: Still on for Saturday?

Micture myself having dinner with Piper on Saturday and just the thought of an evening where nobody is demanding anything of me and I can just be an ordinary man on a date with an attractive woman, just two people who enjoy each other’s company, it’s pretty damn appealing.

I type a response: Looking forward to it. And I mean it, mostly.

I put my phone down and return to the task at hand. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t stop picturing Cassandra’s face. The look on it the moment before she fainted and I caught her.

Not the defeat-That’s easy enough for someone like her to fake, especially when she’s looking for mercy. What I can’t get over is the expression that came after. In the half-second before she went unconscious. The look of shock when she was braced to hit the floor and found hands catching her instead.

Not gratitude. Not relief. Something more fundamental-the expression of someone who didn’t expect to be caught and couldn’t quite believe it when she was.

I caught her before I decided to, moved by the bond. My body has opinions about her that exist separately from my own. I’m going to need to get that under control if she’s going to be here, living in my house, where I have to see her, smell her delicious scent, every damn day.

I think about sitting up all night with her, just watching her sleep. I told myself I was just being a good Alpha, taking responsibility for an injured person under my roof. Nothing to do with the bond or what she is or the sound of her breathing that I was tracking through the whole night without meaning to.

And I think about Liam, the thing he told me about his mom. She tries really hard. She makes mistakes but she tries. He’s only four years old. He shouldn’t have the vocabulary for that observation. I try not to let it hurt my heart that he does.

I shake these thoughts away, reminding myself that I have work to do. I have dinner on Saturday with a lovely woman who could be my future. A future where I don’t need Cassandra in order to survive.

That’s enough for today.

That’s what I tell myself.

I’m finally getting into the groove, crossing tasks off my list, when Dr. Lukas comes by for my appointment. An appointment I completely forgot about considering I’ve been feeling so good.

She has her folder-the blood tests, the weekly tracking, the clinical notations that sum up my life, reducing it to the medical markers of a fatal disease. I wave her in and she sits across from me.

“How are you feeling?” It’s the same question she opens every appointment with. But this week, my answer is different.

“Pretty good, actually. No more neurological symptoms since we spoke last. The cold spells are less frequent and I have had a headache for three days.” I relay all the pertinent details.

“Your headache frequency has reduced?” she questions dubiously, like she can’t believe her own ears. I nod. ” That’s significant, Noah. Since three days ago?”

She watches me carefully, waiting for me to confirm. Which I do. She shakes her head and blows out a low whistle.

“I know,” I share her disbelief. “But that’s good, right?”

Dr. Lukas closes her folder.

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“I don’t know. Maybe.” She hedges, and I don’t blame her for not agreeing right away. It’s only been a few days.

-see you for your regular check-in next week,” she says.

She makes it to the door before she stops and turns to look at me. “Noah, what happened three days ago?”

She doesn’t wait for an answer she knows I won’t give. She doesn’t need one anyway. She knows exactly what happened. She was there.

I sit in my office and think about Cassandra’s presence here, the difference between it’s improving my symptoms and does it mean anything else. I think about the distinction I need that to be.

I can’t afford it to be anything else.

Cara Anderson Author

Thank you for reading!

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