Rebirth of the Broken Luna A Second Chance at Luna's Heart novel Chapter 451

Chapter 451

SHAWN

Heart

*Grandma and Grandpa set fires all the time during the territorial wars,” Riley pointed out. “Shawn setting one fire during power training is actually demonstrating restraint by comparison.”

“The wars were different circumstances,” Lumina said.

“Were they though?” Riley asked. “Because from my research, at least forty percent of territorial war tactics involved strategic arson. Shawn’s forest fire was accidental, which makes it less concerning than deliberate burning of enemy strongholds.”

“You’re five,” I said. “How do you know about territorial war tactics?”

“I read,” Riley said simply. “Grandpa has excellent archives.”

“I’m regretting those archives,” Xenois muttered.

“Knowledge is power,” Riley quoted. “You tell us that all the time.”

“I tell you that about schoolwork,” Xenois corrected. “Not about researching historical war crimes.”

“They weren’t crimes if they were during sanctioned territorial conflicts,” Riley argued.

“Riley,” Lumina said firmly. “Enough.”

The five-year-old subsided, but looked pleased with himself for derailing the conversation.

I found myself smiling despite everything. This family was absolutely insane. They had five-year-olds who researched war tactics, elderly former warriors who taught inappropriate life lessons, and a collective agreement that setting things on fire was an acceptable problem-solving method.

And somehow, they wanted me to be part of it.

“When will the adoption be official?” I asked. “What’s the timeline?”

“We’re meeting with lawyers next week,” Samuel said. “To file the paperwork. Then there’s a waiting period-usually about three

months-where social services confirms placement is appropriate. Then a hearing where a judge finalizes everything.”

“Three months?” I repeated.

“Unless something unusual happens,” Silvia confirmed. “But given that you’re seventeen and we’re established pack leaders with

resources and references, it should be straightforward. You’ll legally be our son by spring.”

1/4

Spring. Three months away. Long enough that it still felt hypothetical, but close enough that I could actually imagine it happening.

“What if I mess up before then?” I asked. “What if I do something that makes you change your minds?”

‘Short of committing actual crimes or deliberately hurting people, there’s nothing you could do that would make us change our minds,” Samuel said. “You’re allowed to make mistakes, Shawn. That’s part of being young. We’re not expecting perfection.”

“Though we do expect effort,” Silvia added. “Effort to learn, to grow, to participate in family life. But that’s different from expecting you to be flawless.”

“I can do effort,” I said.

“Good,” she said. “Then we’re set. Welcome to the family, Shawn. Officially or not, you’re one of us now.”

The rest of lunch passed in a blur of conversation and food and the overwhelming feeling that my life had fundamentally changed in ways I was still processing.

After the meal, as people scattered to various activities, Xenois pulled me aside.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he told me. “About you being valuable and about being okay with the adoption. But I also want to acknowledge that this is going to be an adjustment for both of us. I’ve never had a brother. You’ve never had an older sibling or a pack alpha as family. We’re going to have to figure out how this relationship works.”

“I’d like that,” I said. “The figuring out part. I don’t want to be strangers who happen to share parents.”

“Neither do I,” Xenois agreed. “So here’s my suggestion: we start with regular conversations. Nothing formal, just getting to know each other. Maybe you help me with pack administrative work sometimes, and I’ll help you with power training. We find shared interests, build trust, create a relationship that’s authentic to us rather than trying to fit some predetermined sibling template.”

“That sounds good,” I said. “Though I should warn you I’m terrible at administrative work. Organization isn’t my strength.”

“That’s fine,” Xenois said. “I’m terrible at relaxing and not working constantly. Maybe we can balance each other out.”

I felt a smile tug at my lips. “Maybe we can.”

“One more thing,” Xenois added. “My parents are… a lot. They mean well, but they have questionable judgment about appropriate

behavior and boundary-setting. If they pressure you into anything you’re uncomfortable with, if they teach you anything illegal or

dangerous, if they give you alcohol or involve you in schemes that seem inadvisable-come talk to me or Lumina. We’ll intervene.”

“They gave Ollie rum,” I said.

“I heard about that,” Xenois said tiredly. “We had words. They’re not supposed to give my children alcohol anymore. But I wouldn’t put

it past them to find creative loopholes.”

2/4

Chapter 451

“They’re teaching the boys poker and how to count cards,” I added.

“Of course they are,* Xenois muttered. “That’s going on the list of things to address.”

Despite everything-the uncertainty, the fear, the overwhelming change-I felt something warm settle in my chest. This was what family looked like. People who cared enough to intervene, to protect, to make sure you weren’t being led astray even by well-meaning relatives with terrible judgment.

I’d spent six months alone, scared, hiding what I was and hoping I could survive long enough to find somewhere safe.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify