Pursuing My Rejected Luna by Cara Anderson novel Chapter 88

Chapter 88

Skye

The first two weeks at my father’s pack are uneventful. I’ve been able to relax and unwind in a way I haven’t in years. Compared to the way I’d walked in eggshells at Ironwood Pack, it’s been pure bliss.

But then the incidents start. It’s only small things at first, easy enough to dismiss. A shadow at the window that disappears when I look directly at it. The feeling of being watched during my evening walks through pack territory. All things that might be nothing more than my imagination.

I tell myself I’m being paranoid. Pregnancy hormones. Stress from the divorce. My mind creating threats where there are none. All the excuses I’ve been repeating for days. But the feeling persists.

And then the incidents escalate. I hear my father talking about unfamiliar wolves being spotted at the pack borders-there one moment, but gone before guards can intercept them. Security cameras catch glimpses of figures that vanish into the forest like ghosts. Pack members report strange scents near the Alpha house. Foreign. Unknown.

I start jumping at every sound. Every unexpected movement. Diana notices during one of our morning walks. I flinch when a bird takes flight from a nearby tree, my hand automatically going to my belly in a protective gesture. I have no reason to think anyone would want to harm me, but I can’t help feeling afraid.

“You need to tell your father how you’re feeling,” she says quietly.

“It’s probably nothing-” I deflect.

“Skye.” Her voice is firm. “Tell him. He wants you to be comfortable here. He’ll listen if you share your

concerns.”

So I do. That evening, I knock on my father’s office door and tell him everything. The shadows. The feeling of being watched. The growing sense that something is wrong. His expression darkens with

every word.

“How long has this been happening?” He snarls, but I know it’s not directed at me.

“A week. Maybe more.” I think.

He picks up his phone immediately, calling his head of security. Within hours, everything changes.

Guards are posted directly outside the Alpha house. Patrols are increased again. Security cameras are reviewed frame by frame. But no one can find the source of the surveillance.

Whoever is watching us is good at staying hidden.

Three days later, my father calls me into his office. Diana is already there, her expression serious, and my stomach drops. I have a feeling I’m not going to like what I hear next.

I

“What’s wrong?” I demand immediately.

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Father gestures to a chair. “Sit. There’s something you need to know. About Dalton’s imprisonment.”

I sit, wrapping my arms around myself like a shield from whatever he might say. He leans against his desk, choosing his words carefully.

“Dalton wasn’t just arrested because of mistaken identity. The charges that got him imprisoned-they were cover for something bigger.”

“What do you mean?” That doesn’t make any sense to me. Why would they let him go if that were true?

“He witnessed something he shouldn’t have, Skye. Organized criminal activity. Trafficking. Drugs. Violence.” Father’s voice is hard. “Dalton was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He saw too much. The wolves running the operation tried to silence him, by bribing the authorities to lock him away somewhere most wolves never leave. When you managed to get him released…”

My blood runs cold.

“He testified?” I know it’s true as soon as the words leave my mouth.

“Against some very dangerous wolves. In exchange for immunity and protection.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Those wolves are in prison now. Life sentences, most of them. But they have connections. Family. People who might want revenge against anyone who put them away.”

It doesn’t take long until my father’s idea of security becomes suffocating. Guards go with me everywhere I go. They sit outside my room, follow me through the pack house. They basically watch while I eat, sleep, and breathe.

I can’t take my evening walks anymore. Can’t sit in the garden without three guards watching from different angles. Can’t even go to the bathroom without someone stationed outside the door. I feel trapped.

It’s different than it was with Jaxon-this is for my protection, not control-but I feel trapped nonetheless. Even the baby seems to sense my stress, kicking anxiously, moving constantly, like he’s as

restless as I am.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper to my belly at night. “I’m sorry you’re stuck in the middle of all this.”

Two weeks after my voluntary imprisonment began, I can’t take it anymore. I need air. Space. Five minutes alone without guards hovering. Just five minutes before I lose my mind. So I wait until the guard rotation changes-there’s a two-minute gap when they switch posts. I’ve been watching the patterns. Then I slip out the side door and into the garden.

I’m careful, staying close to the house, within sight of the windows. There’s been no more sightings, no unusual activity in the past two weeks, no more feeling of being watched by someone I can’t see. Which only reinforces my belief that I was just being paranoid.

Just five minutes. That’s all I need.

Nothing bad could possibly happen in the next five minutes, right? 1

Cara Anderson Author

Thank you for reading!

D

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