Rebirth of the Broken Luna A Second Chance at Luna's Heart novel Chapter 393

Chapter 393

SILVIA

I stared at him, understanding finally settling over me with sickening larity.

This wasn’t just about revenge. This wasn’t even just about stopping enois’s reforms.

This was about destroying him. About either forcing him to become the monster they claimed he’d always been, or breaking him by making him choose between his values and his family.

“You’re going to kill me,” I said quietly. “No matter what Xenois does, no matter how he responds-you’re going to kill me anyway. Because my death will either radicalize him into becoming what you want everyone to fear, or it will break him completely and leave the pack

vulnerable.

“Now you’re thinking like the war leader you used to be,” Jerome said approvingly. “Yes, Silvia. You’re going to die. The only question is whether you die as a martyr who proves the Blackwood pack is as dangerous as we claim, or as a victim who exposes their weakness.”

He turned to leave, then paused.

“For what it’s worth, I almost respect you. You did terrible things, but you did them for reasons you believed in. You built something stable,

even if you built it on corpses. That takes a certain kind of strength.”

“If you respect me so much,” I called after him, “you’ll let me see my mate. Let me know he’s alive.”

Jerome considered this, then shrugged. ‘Why not? Let her see him. Let them have one last moment together bef

e begin the real

work.”

Two nightwalkers moved to the cell door, unlocking it carefully while others stood ready with weapons and spelled restraints.

“Try anything,” one warned, “and we hurt him first. Understand?”

I nodded, letting them lead me out of the cell and down a dark corridor to another cell a few doors away.

Samuel was there. Chained like I was, bloody and bruised but alive. His eyes found mine immediately, and I felt the mate bond snap back into focus, no longer blocked by whatever magic they’d been using.

‘Silvia,’ he breathed, relief and fear mixing in his voice. “Are you hurt?

“I’m fine, I lied, moving as close to his cell as the chains allowed.

“Samuel, what do we do?”

“We survive,” he said firmly.

“Long enough for Xenois to find us. Long enough for our son to moun a rescue.”

“They’re going to use me against him,” I said quietly. “Jerome said—they’re trying to force Xenois to choose between his values and his family. To either prove he’s a tyrant or break him completely.”

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Samuel’s expression darkened with understanding. “Then we need to make sure he doesn’t fall into that trap. We need to find a way to escape on our own, to remove ourselves as leverage.”

“How?” I asked. “We’re chained with silver, drugged with wolfsbane, strounded by nightwalkers and werewitches who know exactly how to keep werewolves contained.”

“I don’t know,” Samuel admitted.

“But we’re Silvia and Samuel Blackwood. We’ve survived worse than this. We’ve fought through impossible odds and come out on top. We’ll find a way.”

Looking at my mate-bloodied but unbroken, terrified but determined I felt something shift inside me.

Because he was right. We’d survived the territorial wars. We’d built a pack from nothing. We’d raised children and established peace and created something worth protecting.

And we’d done it by being absolutely ruthless when necessary.

Maybe it was time to remember those lessons. To become, one more time, the monsters we’d tried so hard to leave behind.

For our son. For our grandsons. For the family and pack we’d do anything to protect.

W

“Jerome!” I shouted, my voice carrying down the corridor. “I want to make a deal!”

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He appeared moments later, eyebrows raised. “A deal? How interesting What could you possibly offer that would interest me?”

I met his eyes, letting him see the calculation, the deadly seriousness.

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“Information,” I said. “About the territorial wars, about alliances made and treaties signed. About supernatural power structures you don’t even know exist. I’ll tell you everything-every secret Samuel and I kept for forty years-in exchange for one thing.”

“Which is?”

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“Let my mate go,” I said firmly.

“Keep me as your prisoner, use me as leverage, kill me if you want. Bu let Samuel go free. He’s been drugged and beaten and chained. He’s not a threat to you anymore. Let him walk away, and I’ll cooperate with whatever you have planned.”

‘Silvía, no- Samuel protested immediately.

“Samuel,” I said, still holding Jerome’s gaze, “has given me over forty years of his life. Forty years of love and partnership and standing by me through everything. He deserves better than dying in a cell because of choices I made in wars he helped fight. So yes. I’m offering myself in exchange for his freedom.”

Jerome studied me for a long moment, clearly calculating the value of my offer.

“Information about the old alliances would be valuable,” he admitted. There are still supernatural leaders who remember those days, who might be convinced to oppose Alpha Xenois if they knew the full extent of Blackwood crimes. And keeping you as a sole prisoner would be easier than managing two.”

He smiled slowly.

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“But I think I’ll decline your generous offer. Because having you both lows me to hurt you in ways that go beyond physical torture. I can make you watch him suffer. Make him watch you break. Test the famous Backwood mate bond to see how much strain it can take before

shattering.”

“You’re making a mistake,” I said quietly.

“Am I? I don’t think so. I think I’m making the very smart decision to keep you both exactly where you are until your son makes his

choice.”

He gestured to the guards. “Return her to her cell. And make sure they can’t see or hear each other. I want them isolated, uncertain, afraid for each other. That fear will make them more cooperative.”

As they dragged me away, I caught one last glimpse of Samuel’s face letermined, furious, already planning.

We weren’t done. Not by a long shot.

Because Jerome Thorne had made one critical mistake.

He’d assumed we were the same people we’d been during the territorial wars. Ruthless, yes. Violent, certainly. But ultimately selfish, willing to sacrifice anything for power.

He didn’t understand that forty years of marriage, of building a family of raising children who taught us to be better-it had changed us.

We weren’t fighting for power anymore. We were fighting for family.

And that made us infinitely more dangerous than we’d ever been before.

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