Rebirth of the Broken Luna A Second Chance at Luna's Heart novel Chapter 421

Chapter 421

“Three weeks later!” Samuel was fully shouting now, apparently too scandalized by my confessions to care that we were surrounded by enemies. “Xena cried herself to sleep every night! Xenois felt terrible!”

“I know!” I said. “I’m sorry! I panicked and didn’t know how to admit I’d been the one who left the cage open!”

“This is insane,” one of the nightwalkers muttered. “They’re about to die and they’re arguing about a rabbit from forty years ago.”

“Thirty-eight years ago,” I corrected automatically. “And it was a very traumatic incident. For everyone involved. Especially the rabbit.”

Jerome looked like he was about to have an aneurysm. “Enough! I don’t care about your family drama or your confessions or your inability to take responsibility for basic mistakes! You’re both going to die now, and-”

“Actually, Samuel interrupted, his voice suddenly ice cold, “I have a confession too.”

Oh no.

“Samuel,” I said warningly, “don’t you dare-”

“Remember that vase your mother gave us?” he asked, meeting my eyes with an expression that promised trouble. “The one that was supposedly priceless and had been in your family for generations?”

“Samuel, I swear to the moon goddess-”

“I broke it,” he said. “Seventeen years ago during an argument about pack finances. And I blamed Xenois.”

The betrayal hit me like a physical blow. “You blamed our son for breaking my mother’s vase?”

“In my defense, he wasn’t there to deny it,” Samuel said, echoing my earlier excuse.

“And you were so angry that I panicked.”

“That vase was irreplaceable!”

“I know! That’s why I panicked!”

“We made Xenois feel terrible for weeks!”

“I KNOW!” Samuel shouted. “I felt awful about it! But then you confessed to blaming him for other things and I felt less guilty!”

“That’s not how guilt works!” I yelled back.

‘Clearly it is because I feel better now!”

We were fully shouting at each other now, forty-three years of marriage compressed into this one absurd moment where we were airing grievances while surrounded by enemies who wanted us dead.

“We are terrible parents,” I said finally.

‘Wonderful. We’re going to die because of joint pain and old age.”

“There are worse ways to go,” I said philosophically.

“Name one.”

“Peacefully in our sleep, having never properly apologized to our son for blaming him for things that weren’t his fault.”

Samuel laughed-genuine and full despite the circumstances. “You’re right. This is better.”

The first nightwalker reached us, and I ducked under his strike, using his momentum against him to send him crashing into the wall. Samuel caught the second one with an elbow to the throat, following up with a knee that definitely wasn’t good for his arthritis but was very effective at incapacitating enemies.

We fought like we were thirty years younger, ignoring the pain and the exhaustion and the voice of reason screaming that we were going to hurt ourselves worse than the enemies could.

But we were holding our own. Barely. Desperately. But holding.

I took down a werewitch with a strike to her solar plexus, then had to immediately dodge a fae blade that came way too close to my throat. Samuel was grappling with two nightwalkers at once, using leverage and experience to compensate for his diminished strength.

“We can’t keep this up!” I shouted over the sounds of combat.

“I know!” Samuel yelled back. “But we’re doing a damn good job of going down fighting!”

A nightwalker caught me with a punch to the ribs that definitely cracked something. I went down hard, vision swimming. and saw Samuel try to reach me only to be overwhelmed by three attackers.