Pursuing My Rejected Luna by Cara Anderson novel Chapter 269

Ch.39

Cassandra

After my run in with Noah, I go back to my room and just sit on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall. I may not interact with him often, but every encounter seems to take more and more out of me, leaving me so spent afterwards, I can barely do more than breathe.

It’s worth it, I tell myself. As long as Liam is safe and happy, it’s worth it.

And to be honest, there’s a bit of pride mixed in with the other jumble of emotions I’m feeling. I was honest. Out loud, directly, to his face. Yes, it bothers me.

I didn’t plan to. I’m not sure it was wise. I’m not sure it changes anything or helps anything or makes any of this easier. But I think it was right anyway.

My old mantra would have been: don’t give him ammunition. Don’t let him see you hurt, even by things you earned. Maintain the appearance of equanimity because equanimity is defensible.

I told him the truth instead.

And I’m sitting here thinking about what it costs to keep paying for choices you’ve already paid for–because that’s what this is. Every honest thing I say, every reflex I don’t follow, every time I look at Piper and think she’s good and he deserves good- that’s payment. Not a transaction. Just the ongoing cost of having made the choices I made.

And damn, it’s expensive!

I don’t know when it stops being payment and starts being just-life. I don’t know if it ever does. Goddess, I hope so.

“Your boy found the Alpha’s office again this morning,” Mara tells me when I come down to the kitchen the next day. “They were in there for a while.”

She mentions it casually, in a just making conversation kind of way. But it catches me off guard.

“He goes to his office?” The shock must be written on my face because Mara registers it.

“Most mornings,” she smiles fondly. “Noah gives him paper and lets him draw at the corner of the desk.”

“How long has that been happening?” I wonder aloud, not really expecting an answer.

“Two weeks, maybe.” She shrugs. “The boy likes him. He follows him like a satellite.” She looks at me. “You didn’t know?”

“No,” I admit. “I didn’t.”

She nods and goes back to her prep. I stand there mutely while I try to make sense of how my son manages to worm his way into the Alpha’s office every day after I drop him at Theo’s and why Noah would even allow it.

I don’t ask Noah about it. I’m afraid that asking would make it a thing that requires a decision-his decision, whether to keep allowing it, and the decision might go the wrong way. It’s clearly important to Liam if he’s going every day so I don’t ask.

I tell myself this costs me nothing but that’s a lie. It costs a lot. The specific cost of watching your child find a safe harbor in the person you hurt, the person I’ll never be able to make a true, permanent part of his family. It cuts deep and feels like bleeding

out.

I drag myself through the rest of the day, forcing myself to put one foot in front of the other because if I don’t, I risk our palace here. And I can’t do that to Liam. But by the time I make it back to our room, all I can do is tumble into bed with my clothes still on, the emotional exhaustion a weight i just can’t carry anymore.

But despite the fatigue, I’m still awake hours later. Liam has been asleep for awhile-the deep sleep of a child who has played hard and been sufficiently tired out by the day. While I sit in the dark and I let myself feel the full weight of my life choices

1/3

+15 Bonus

I may have told Noah the truth when he confronted me the other day but I haven’t been so honest with myself. And the honest truth is, I’m in love with him.

Not just because of the bond-though the bond certainly doesn’t help matters-bunit’s not the bond’s pull. That I can manage. It’s what I find when I look beneath the bond.

That’s where the actual feeling lives, the one that isn’t just biology. That’s where I see the man who runs this pack with patience and shares his toast with my son and teaches him knots simply because he is looking at a rope with the wonder and curiosity of a four-year-old.

The man who is deliberately hurting me but who I can’t be angry with because he earned the right. The man who told me Liam’s a good kid, even though it insinuated I’m a decent mother and I know that cost him. And now I tearn he’s spending mornings with him, showing up for Liam regardless of his feelings for me.

I’m in love with him. I can admit that to myself. But it doesn’t help. It doesn’t solve anything. It doesn’t give me a right I don’t

have.

It’s just true.

I’m sitting at my desk, finishing the last of the bucket of coffee I poured myself after my sleepless night when I hear voices in the corridor. Not loud-just two people having a conversation-but I hear it anyway.

“I just need to know if there’s something I’m not seeing.” Piper’s tone is beseeching.

“There’s nothing happening, Piper.” Noah responds patiently, a reassuring tone.

“I believe you, but that’s not the same as there being nothing.” She sighs, not sounded the least bit placated by his response.

I sit very still, not wanting to draw attention to myself. After a pregnant pause, I hear her footsteps leave. Then, after a long moment, his. Going the other direction.

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