Pursuing My Rejected Luna by Cara Anderson novel Chapter 89

Chapter 89

Skye

The roses are in bloom, and I move toward them, breathing in their scent, letting the quiet settle my nerves. It’s what I always did back in Ironwood when it all became too much.

I’m admiring a particularly beautiful red rose when a hand clamps over my mouth from behind. Panic explodes through me. I struggle, try to scream, but the hand is firm. Strong.

A voice in my ear, low and threatening: “Stop fighting or I’ll hurt the baby.”

Terror overrides everything. My hands go to my belly automatically, protective, even as my mind screams at me to fight. But I was raised by an Alpha. My father taught me not to be helpless.

I slam my head back with all my strength. Connect with something-his nose, I think-and hear a satisfying crunch. The man curses, his grip loosening.

And I scream. Loud. Piercing. Using every ounce of air in my lungs.

“HELP!”

Guards pour from the house like ants from a disturbed nest. The attacker releases me, disappearing into the trees with inhuman speed. The guards give chase, but I already know they won’t catch him. Whoever he is, he’s too fast. Too prepared.

I collapse to my knees in the garden, both hands pressed to my belly, checking for pain, for blood, for any sign that the baby is hurt.

“Skye!” Diana is there, dropping to her knees beside me.

“The baby-” I can’t get the words out. “Is he-”

“Shh, we’ll check. You’re safe now.”

But I’m not safe am I? None of us are safe. Not when whoever’s after us is able to get that close in broad daylight without anyone noticing.

The pack doctor examines me in my room while guards stand watch outside, my father pacing like a caged animal.

“The baby’s fine,” Dr. Elise says finally. “The heartbeat is strong. I see no signs of distress.”

The relief almost breaks me. I press my hands to my belly, feeling the baby move, and start crying.

“He’s okay,” I whisper. “You’re okay.”

Diana holds me while I fall apart. And my father stands at the window, looking out at the garden where his daughter was just attacked, his expression murderous.

That night, he calls an emergency meeting. Me. Diana. his head of security. And-to my shock-a video

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call with Nicolai Woolf.

I stare at the laptop screen where Nicolai’s face appears, confused.

“I asked Alpha Woolf to join us,” He explains. “Given the circumstances, we need to discuss options for your safety.”

Nicolai’s face on the screen is intense. Worried. His eyes find mine immediately.

“Are you hurt? I swear I’m going to gut the asshole who thought he could touch you when I find him!” I can tell he’s concerned for me, but his tone is pure venom. No wonder his enemies fear him.

“I’m fine,” I try to sound reassuring but can’t hide that my hands are still shaking. “The baby’s fine.”

Some of the tension leaves his shoulders.

My father turns to his man. “Report.”

“The attacker escaped. We tracked him to the southern border, but he was gone. He left no scent trail, no tracks-he knew what he was doing.” His expression is grim. “This was professional. Planned.”

Diana squeezes my hand. “He’s right, sweetheart.”

“I don’t want to be a burden-”

“You’re not.” Nicolai’s voice is soft but certain. “You could never be a burden.”

The weight of his words settles over me.

Father looks at me. “It’s your choice, Skye. But I think Alpha Woolf is right. The Woolf estate would be

safer.”

I look down at my belly, at the life growing inside me that I need to protect. At the baby who almost got hurt today because I wanted five minutes of peace.

“How soon can I leave?” I ask, conceding the fight.

Nicolai’s expression shifts-relief, determination, something else I can’t name.

“Tomorrow,” he says. “I’ll have everything ready by tomorrow.”

Cara Anderson Author

Thank you for reading!

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