Rebirth of the Broken Luna A Second Chance at Luna's Heart novel Chapter 433

Chapter 433

Zade was being treated by Lyn, his injuries minor but requiring attention. Rivers, Marcus, Thorne, Klaus, and Theo were

scattered around the room, all bearing evidence of the fight but all alive.

Everyone had survived. Against terrible odds, with improvised backup and children who shouldn’t have been anywhere near combat, everyone had survived.

That should have felt like victory.

But watching my father cry over my mother’s unconscious body, it felt more like we’d barely avoided tragedy.

“Dad,” I said gently, moving closer. “Why don’t you sit down? You can stay with her, but you need to rest too. You’re

injured and exhausted.”

“I’m fine,” he insisted, not looking away from my mother.

“You’re not fine,” I countered. “You just fought your way through a nightwalker nest, survived torture and captivity, and

executed some kind of explosion technique that by allnts should have killed you both. You need medical attention.”

“After Silvia wakes up,” he said stubbornly.

“Samuel-”

“After she wakes up!” His voice rose, carrying alpha authority that I hadn’t heard from him in years. “I am not leaving her

side until I see her open her eyes and tell me I’m being dramatic. Do you understand?”

I understood. Of course I understood. If it were Lumina lying there unconscious, I’d refuse to leave too.

“Okay,” I agreed. “But at least sit down. Please.”

He finally conceded, pulling a chair close to the table and sitting without releasing my mother’s hand. Ollie immediately

climbed into his lap, curling against his grandfather’s chest.

“Tell me a story about Grandma,” Ollie requested quietly. “A happy one. From before the wars and the bad stuff. When she

was young.”

My father was quiet for a long moment, then started speaking.

“The first time I met your grandmother, she punched me in the face.”

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Despite everything, I felt a smile tug at my lips. I’d heard this story before, but it never got old.

“Why?” Ollie asked, intrigued despite his tears.

“Because I made a joke about female alphas being too emotional to lead effectively, my father said. “This was fifty years ago, mind you. Different times, different attitudes. I was young and stupid and thought I was being clever.”

“You were never clever,” my mother’s voice said weakly.

Everyone in the room froze.

My father’s head snapped toward her so fast I worried about his neck. “Silvia?”

My mother’s eyes were barely open, her voice barely more than a whisper, but she was awake and talking.

“I’ve been conscious for about thirty seconds,” she said. “And in that time, you’ve told our grandson a story that makes you look like a misogynistic idiot. So I felt compelled to correct the record.”

“You’re awake,” my father said, his voice

putting pharm with relief. “You’re awake and insulting me. Thank god.”

“Obviously I’m insulting you,” my mother said. “Someone has to keep your ego in check. Can’t have you thinking you’re

the competent one in this relationship.”

Ollie was crying again, but this time from relief. “Grandma! You’re okay!”

“I’m alive,” she corrected. “There’s a difference. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. Possibly several trucks. Did someone get

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