Pursuing My Rejected Luna by Cara Anderson novel Chapter 43

Chapter 43

Chapter 43

Skye

The conversation in the garden last night was dangerous.

Necessary, but dangerous.

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Nicolai found me walking among the roses-not coincidentally, I suspect.

“Dalton is safe,” he told me first, knowing I needed to hear it from him before I could believe it.

“Nico, thank you. I don’t know how you-”

“Don’t.” He held up a hand. “You don’t need to know how. You just need to know it’s done.”

Then he asked the harder questions. About my life. My marriage.

I gave him the abbreviated version. I told him about Cassandra. About Liam. About being left in the storm. How I’d completely and utterly failed to make my own mate love me.

What I didn’t tell him was about the baby growing inside me. That secret is still mine to keep.

But standing there with Nicolai, feeling seen and valued for the first time in years, I realized how far gone I really am.

How completely I’ve given up on Jaxon ever seeing me as anything more than an obligation.

Speaking of, the man in question wastes no time showing up at my door this morning.

I’m barely awake when he appears in the doorway with an expression that makes my stomach drop.

“I saw you with Woolf last night,” he accuses. “In the garden.”

My heart pounds, but I keep my voice steady. “We were both out for a walk and ran into each other. It was an innocent conversation, Jaxon.”

“It looked personal.”

“Looks can be deceiving, especially from a distance. I assume you weren’t nearby or you would have announced yourself.”

Jaxon’s eyes narrow. “Were you discussing me? Our marriage?”

“We were discussing roses, actually.” I lie too easily. “He was asking about the varieties we cultivate. Apparently his grandmother loves gardens.”

It’s plausible enough. Neutral enough. And just boring enough that Jaxon’s suspicion wavers slightly.

“You seemed very engaged in the conversation.”

“I share his grandmother’s love for roses.” I move past him toward the bathroom, needing distance. “Is

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there something specific you’re accusing me of, Jaxon? Or are you just generally suspicious of any interaction I have that doesn’t involve you?”

The deflection works. Barely.

“Just remember who you belong to,” he says quietly.

I close the bathroom door before I say something I can’t take back.

Nicolai is leaving tomorrow morning, returning to the northern territories and whatever dangerous business the Woolf family conducts there.

I should be relieved. His presence has made everything more complicated. But instead, I feel something

uncomfortably close to panic.

I haven’t told him how much it meant to see him again after three years, to remember what it felt like to talk to someone who actually listened instead of just waited for their turn to speak. I just want five

minutes alone with him. Five minutes to say goodbye properly.

But Jaxon has made sure that’s impossible.

Every meal, Nicolai is seated across the room from me. Every social function, there’s someone between us. Every moment I’m in public, I can feel Jaxon’s eyes tracking my movements, monitoring who I talk to

and for how long.

It’s suffocating.

But we have one final dinner together before he goes-a gathering with Alpha’s from neighboring packs. It’s not often a member of the Woolf family is in town and apparently everyone is curious about the

mysterious man.

Unfortunately, I can’t enjoy his last night here. I’ve been nauseated all day. The dining hall is too warm and filled with the rich scents of roasted meat and heavy sauces. My stomach churns sickeningly. And finally, it’s too much.

When I return to the dining hall, I slide into my seat beside Jaxon as unobtrusively as possible.

He leans close immediately, his voice low. “You smell different tonight. Did you change your perfume?”

I cough to cover my gasp.

“No.” I reach for my water glass to hide the tremor in my hands. “Same as always.”

“Hm. His eyes narrow slightly, studying me with that new intensity I’ve noticed lately. “Must be my

imagination.

But he doesn’t look away. He keeps watching me throughout the rest of the meal, his attention focused on me with an intensity that makes my skin prickle.

He’s looking for something

And I’m terrified he’s going to find it

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And when my secrets finally explode-because they will, it’s only a matter of when-I have no idea what’s going to happen next.

The card burns against my skin like a promise.

Or a lifeline.

Or maybe just a dream of escape I’m too afraid to reach for.

Cara Anderson

Author

Thank you for reading!

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