Pursuing My Rejected Luna by Cara Anderson novel Chapter 273

Ch.43

Cassandra

I can’t avoid it any longer. It’s the end of the day and I have a folder to return to Noah’s office-he asked for it by four and I’m only ten minutes under the deadline. It means I have to face him and I’ve been dreading it since Cole told me this morning.

He’s on a call when I come in and the relief of knowing I can sneak out without a confrontation is palpable. He looks up, nods- leave it-and goes back to the call, barely acknowledging my presence. Thank fuck.

I set the folder on the desk, intent on making a quick retreat. I’m turning to leave when I see it. On the corner of the desk, where Liam draws when he comes in the mornings.

The crayon drawing. The one Liam made of the three of us and insisted he give it to the Alpha. I never expected him to keep it.

But there it is, in pride of place on his desk.

Not stuffed in a drawer, not in the bin that’s visible under the desk’s left side. On the desk where he works. Where he’ll see it everyday. Where Liam can see that he kept it. My insides get all melty at that thought.

I hurry out the door before the tears brimming in my eyes can spill over. That’s just ammo Noah doesn’t need to use against me. And he absolutely would.

After dropping the files to Noah, I’m leaving the building at the end of day, bag over one shoulder, when Piper falls into step beside me. So much for my clean getaway.

I immediately tense up. I can’t help it-my body just seems to know something about the two of us sharing space isn’t right. My wolf snarls and snaps at her in my head, making the whole encounter ten times harder than it needs to be.

“Relax.” She must see how on edge I am. “I’m not going to say anything awful.”

I’m not convinced we share the same definition of ‘awful’ because I can’t imagine anything she has to say that I’d want to hear, but I give her the benefit of the doubt, waiting for her to speak. She doesn’t say anything for a moment and I don’t fill the silence. We’ve established something like a shared tolerance for it, apparently, without either of us choosing to.

“He told me what you are to him,” she announces suddenly, catching me off guard.

Not what I expected her to say. Stake her claim, warn me away, sure. But not bring up my mate bond with her boyfriend like it’s normal conversation. But as shocked as I am that she’d admit it, I’d already guessed he told her.

“I figured as much. Did he tell you all of it? What I did?” I pause. “To him. Did he tell you?”

She draws to a stop and turns to look at me. “No. What did you do?”

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