Pursuing My Rejected Luna by Cara Anderson novel Chapter 42

Chapter 42

Jaxon

Noah intercepts me the moment I return to the Alpha house.

“You’re being obvious,” he says without preamble.

“About what?”

“About being jealous of Alpha Woolf.”

I scoff. “I’m not jealous. I’m being cautious. Why can’t you understand, the Woolf family is dangerous. He’s-”

“He’s looking at Skye the way you should have been looking at her for the past three years.” Noah’s expression is serious. “And you hate it.”

“I don’t-”

“You do.” Noah cuts me off. “You’re finally realizing what you’ve been taking for granted. And now someone else sees it too. Someone who might actually appreciate what he’s seeing.”

The words hit too close to home.

“Skye is my mate,” I growl through gritted teeth.

Noah sighs. “Look Jaxon, I may be your Beta, but I’m also your best friend. I will always tell you the truth. I should have spoken up sooner but I didn’t think you were ready to hear it. Now maybe you are. But even if you’re not, you need to hear it anyway.

“You’re right, Skye is your mate. So maybe you should remind her of that. Before she decides to find someone who actually wants her.”

He leaves me standing in the hallway, his words echoing in my head like accusations.

Lunch is torture.

It’s a casual meal-sandwiches and salad in the sunroom with several pack members and our guests. Skye sits between Grandma Rose and one of the visiting representatives, making polite conversation.

Nicolai is across the table, discussing something with Dimitri. But every few minutes, his eyes drift to Skye. And when she laughs at something Grandma says-actually laughs, genuine and unguarded-his entire expression softens.

Like he’s memorizing the sound.

My grip on my fork tightens until the metal bends under the pressure.

“Everything all right?” Noah murmurs from beside me.

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“Fine.”

“Your fork would suggest otherwise.” He chuckles under his breath.

I set down the mangled utensil and force myself to unclench my jaw.

Across the table, Nicolai says something too quiet for me to hear. Skye responds, and they share a small smile that makes my wolf snarl with possessive rage.

That’s my mate. Mine.

Except she doesn’t feel like mine anymore. Maybe she never did.

The thought makes me want to overturn the table.

I’m in my office that afternoon, trying to focus on paperwork and failing miserably, when Cassandra appears in the doorway.

“Is everything all right?” she asks, her voice soft with concern. “You seem tense.”

“I’m fine.”

“It’s Alpha Woolf, isn’t it?” She closes the door behind her, settling into the chair across from my desk. The way he looks at Skye. I noticed it too.”

I don’t want to have this conversation. But Cassandra’s observation gives me permission to voice what I’ve been thinking. Besides, she’s Skye’s sister. Maybe she knows more about their past than either of them are admitting.

“They seem… close,” I say carefully.

“Well, they did know each other before you and Skye were mated.” Cassandra tilts her head thoughtfully.” Maybe they were closer back then than Skye let on. You know how childhood friendships can be… sometimes they run deeper than we realize. Like ours did.”

The implication makes my chest tight.

“You think they were involved?”

“I don’t know.” Cassandra’s voice is gentle, sympathetic. “But the way they look at each other… there’s

history there, Jaxon. Anyone can see it.”

I think about the easy conversation at dinner. The familiarity. The way Nicolai said Skye’s name like it

meant something.

But I freeze, hidden partially by the hedgerow, watching.

Nicolai’s hand lifts-reaching toward her face, I think, or maybe her shoulder. For one heart-stopping

moment, I’m certain he’s going to touch her.

Every muscle in my body tenses, ready to launch forward and tear him away from what’s mine.

But his hand drops before making contact. He steps back, the appropriate distance restored.

They talk for another minute-I’m too far away to hear the words-and then Skye turns and walks back

toward the house

Nicolai stays in the garden, his hands shoved in his pockets, watching her go with an expression I

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recognize.

Longing.

Want

The look of a man watching something he can’t have walk away.

I should confront him. Demand to know what they were discussing. Remind him that Skye is my mate

and he needs to back off.

Instead, I stand there frozen, watching him watch her, and realize with sickening clarity that Nicolai Woolf looks at my wife the way I never have.

And I have no one to blame but myself.

Cara Anderson

Author

Thank you for reading!

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