Pursuing My Rejected Luna by Cara Anderson novel Chapter 96

Chapter 96

Jaxon

I arrive at Woolf territory for my first scheduled visit with Skye, and the humiliation starts immediately. Guards at the main gate stop my car. Run my plates. Radio ahead for clearance.

Then they search the vehicle. Thoroughly. Opening the trunk. Checking under seats. Running mirrors

beneath the chassis.

“Standard protocol for all visitors,” one guard says without apology. But I know it’s also a message: You’re not welcome here.

After the car search, I’m subjected to a pat-down. Made to surrender my phone.

“You’ll get it back when you leave,” the guard says, handing me a claim ticket like I’m checking a coat.

I want to argue. To remind them that I’m an Alpha, that I have rights, that this is excessive. But I don’t. Because Skye is here. And if I make a scene, they won’t let me see her.

So I swallow my pride and submit to the screening.

They finally let me through the front gate but apparently, I’m nowhere near the main house yet. The drive through Woolf estate grounds takes ten minutes. Ten minutes of winding roads through perfectly manicured grounds. Past gardens and fountains and what looks like a private training facility.

There are security checkpoints every few hundred yards along the way. Guards watching from strategic positions. Cameras everywhere-hidden in landscaping, mounted on buildings, covering every angle.

It’s fortress-level protection and it’s exactly what Skye needs until her attacker is found. But it guts me to know another man is providing it.

When the manor itself finally comes into view, I can’t help but stare. Three stories of stone and glass. Gothic architecture with modern touches. Old money. Old power. And everything the Ironwood Pack

could never offer.

When I’m finally escorted inside by a cold-eyed guard who introduces himself as Mikhail, head of security, I feel small. Out of my depth. This isn’t just a pack house. It’s an estate.

“Ms. Winters is in the sunroom,” Mikhail says and I resist the urge to growl at the use of her maiden name. “You have two hours. I’ll be stationed outside the door. If Luna Vale becomes distressed or requests that you leave, you will leave immediately. Understood?” 1

“Understood,” I say through gritted teeth.

Mikhail opens the door to a beautiful sunroom overlooking the grounds. And there’s Skye. She’s on a couch by the windows, reading. Afternoon light streams in, making her hair shine.

She looks good. Better than the last time I saw her at her father’s pack. Relaxed. The constant tension she carried at Ironwood-and even at Greenwood River-is gone.

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She’s gained weight, but it’s healthy pregnancy weight. Her face is fuller, her color is better, and the dark circles under her eyes are almost gone. She’s glowing.

When she sees me, she sets down her book and smiles. It’s polite. Not forced. Not the tight, careful

expression she wore around me for three years. Just… polite.

We sit like that for a moment, my hand on her belly, feeling our baby move. It’s bittersweet. This intimacy we share through the baby, when everything else between us is broken beyond repair.

Then the door opens, and I pull my hand back automatically. Nicolai enters carrying a tea tray. He doesn’t announce himself. Doesn’t ask permission. Just moves into the room with easy familiarity and sets the tray down on the table near Skye.

“Chamomile,” he says. “Careful, it’s hot.”

“Thank you,” Skye says, and I watch Nicolai’s hand briefly touch her shoulder. Gentle. Natural. But

absolutely possessive

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Nicolai finally acknowledges me with a nod. “Alpha Vale. I hope you’re comfortable. I’ll be nearby if you need anything, Skye.”

The message is clear: I’m watching. Don’t upset her. Then he’s gone, closing the door quietly behind him.

And I’m left sitting with Skye, feeling like an intruder in her new life.

Cara Anderson Author

Thank you for reading!

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