Rise Of A Shattered Luna (Natalie) by Kave Derry novel Chapter 103

Chapter 103 A Mother’s Wound

Flynn’s POV

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The engine of the Mercedes roared as rain began to smear across the windshield, but I couldn’t look away from the woman in my

arms.

My mother, Ruby Stone, felt so light and I could see the map of veins beneath the skin.

In her right hand, her fingers were locked around a silver–framed photograph. It was the only thing she had clung to during the attack.

“Mom! Stay with me! I already went to see Alpha Baron, and he’s going to contact the Witch Doctor to treat you. He gave me his word!” My voice broke, sounding more terrified than I cared to admit. “Don’t scare me like this. Even though Susie is gone, you still have me. You still have Dad… Can you really bear to leave us both behind? Mom, don’t be so cruel.”

I clutched her cold hands, trying to rub warmth back into them, but she showed no desire to keep living.

Her gaze was fixed on the roof of the car, looking at a heaven she had been trying to reach for twenty–four years.

Ruby closed her eyes and whispered, “I’ve been with you and your father for more than twenty years, Flynn… but my daughter has had no one. She’s been waiting in the dark.”

A tear tracked through her cheek. “I know I haven’t been a good mother to you. I dragged you and your father into the surgery. Why couldn’t you just let me do it alone? Why did you have to share the burden?”

She coughed, but continued. “That poor child of mine who I never even got to hold properly. Does that mean she hated me? Is that why she left this world so soon, before she even opened her eyes? To get away from a mother like me?”

1 squeezed my eyes shut, leaning my forehead against hers.

The death of her daughter, my sister; Susie had left a scar on my mother’s heart that no medicine could heal.

The doctors had called it postpartum depression back then. They said the grief had spiraled, and when her own sister passed away shortly after, her mind had simply fractured.

For as long as I could remember, my father and I had lived in a state of hyper–vigilance.

We cared for her in every possible way, but the darkness always returned in cycles.

Then came the call from Baron; the Alpha of the Blackridge pack.

He had been scouring the North for rare skin donors for a woman named Natalie. We planned on rejecting but when my mother heard the details; a woman burned and needed to be rebuilt – she changed her mind.

For the first time in years, she had been interested in helping someone else. She insisted on donating her skin. Not just a patch, but enough to cover her entirely, as she put it.

It was madness.

Naturally, Dad and I had refused. We fought for weeks. But she threatened us that if we didn’t let her do this, she would find a way to bleed out on her own.

10:31 am P Ppp.

Chapter 103 A Mother’s Wound

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With no other option, we had struck a compromise: we would all be tested. If our tissue matched, we would all donate, spreading the physical toll across the three of us so that she might actually survive the procedure.

The True Match results had shocked the surgeons. Our blood and tissue didn’t just “fit” Natalie; they merged with her as if they had been hers all along.

But as I sat in the car, watching my mother fade, a disturbing thought flickered in my mind. The surgery was months ago. Dad and had healed perfectly.

Only Mom was dying… I had always suspected she had brought this illness on herself deliberately; that her body was simply obeying her mind’s command to finally stop.

“Mom, stop it,” I hissed, pulling out my phone with trembling fingers. I dialed my father first, “Dad, Mom’s not doing well. Another attack, worse than the last. I’m taking her to Alice Hospital now – hurry and meet us there.”

I didn’t wait for his reply before hanging up.

My mind was circling back to the image of the woman I had just seen at Baron’s villa.

Natalie.

When I had walked into that courtyard and saw her standing by the fountain, my heart had nearly stopped.

She looked so much like the woman in the photograph Mom was clutching.

She looked exactly like how I’d picture my sister would be.

The way she had looked at me with those fierce, gray–flecked eyes; it was like looking into a mirror.

Was it the skin?

Had our donated vitality changed her features to match ours? Or was there something deeper?

I shook the thought away.

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