Rebirth of the Broken Luna A Second Chance at Luna's Heart novel Chapter 409

Chapter 409

XENOIS

Jerome made a sound that might have been a growl or might have been the verbal equivalent of throwing his hands up in defeat. “You are

both insane.”

“We’re elderly,” my father corrected. “There’s a difference. Insanity implies we don’t understand what we’re doing. We understand perfectly

well. We’re choosing to be difficult because it’s more entertaining than cowering.”

“And because you haven’t actually told us what you want,” my mother added. “You keep making vague threats about justice and revenge, but you haven’t specified demands. What exactly are we supposed to be cooperating with? Your fashion crimes? Because I’m not apologizing for

pointing those out. That was a public service.”

I saw several of my own team struggling not to laugh. Even Zade looked torn between horror and admiration at my parents’ complete refusal to behave like proper hostages.

Jerome took a deep breath, visibly trying to regain control of the situation. “We want Alpha Xenois to reverse his progressive policies.

Return to traditional pack hierarchies. Remove the enhanced children from positions of potential leadership. Expel werewitches and other

supernatural beings who don’t belong in pack territory. Acknowledge that the old ways were correct and resume enforcement of pure bloodline

standards.”

“So basically become everything we spent forty years moving away from,” my father summarized.

“Exactly.”

“And if Xenois refuses?” my mother asked.

“Then you die,” Jerome said simply. “Painfully. Slowly. While he watches.”

My mother considered this for a moment, then shrugged. “Well, we all die eventually. At least this way we’d die for something meaningful.

Xenois, honey, don’t you dare give in to these demands. Everything we taught you about compassion and progress and being better than we

were-hold onto that. Don’t let our mistakes become your tragedy.”

“Your mother is right,” my father added, his voice carrying weight despite the chains and the bruises. “We made terrible choices during the territorial wars. Did horrible things we can never undo. But you’re building something better. Don’t let our past destroy your future.”

I felt my throat tighten with emotion. My parents-the ones who’d hurt Lumina, who’d made countless mistakes, who’d carried so much

prejudice and pain-were telling me to be better than them. To hold onto the progress we’d made even if it cost them their lives.

“We’re coming for you,” I said firmly. “Both of you. I’m not negotiating with terrorists and I’m not letting you die. So hold on. Be difficult. Annoy your captors until they’re ready to let you go just to have some peace.”

“That’s my boy,” my mother said proudly. “Though to be fair, annoying people is kind of our specialty.”

“Our only specialty, really,” my father agreed.

‘Samuel, that’s not true. We’re also excellent at- she paused, considering, “-actually, you might be right. Annoying people is definitely our primary skill.”

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“It’s gotten us this far,” he said philosophically.

Jerome looked like he was about to have a stroke. “This is not a joke! Your lives are in danger! Show some appropriate fear!”

“We’re in our late sixties,” my mother said patiently, as if explaining something to a slow child. “Everything is in danger. Our knees, our backs, our ability to remember where we put things. Comparatively speaking, kidnapping is just another Tuesday.”

“Our eyesight is already going,” my father added. “Samuel Jr. had to help me read a menu last week. Very humiliating.”

“And don’t even get me started on the arthritis,” my mother continued “These chains are actually helping keep my wrists stable. You might

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