Second Chance for the Barren Luna (Talia and Jason) novel Chapter 115

Nolan’s POV

I knocked once before stepping into the Alpha King’s office. He was sitting behind his desk, staring out the window like he’d been lost in thought for a while. When he finally turned, he gestured toward the chair in front of him.

“Come in, Nolan,” he said. “Have a seat.”

I sat down across from him. His tone wasn’t cold or hostile, which was unexpected. It made sense. After everything that had happened, after saving Talia twice, I didn’t think he’d treat me like an enemy this time.

“You wanted to see me?”

“Yes,” the Alpha King said. “I thought it was time we spoke properly.”

He opened a drawer and pulled out a folder, setting it on the desk. Inside were a few photographs. He spread them in front of me. The first showed him with my father. They were younger, probably around my age now, both smiling like brothers. The next was a family photo of my father, my mother, and me, with my father’s hand resting on my shoulder.

Seeing those pictures brought up bitter sweet memories I’d buried deep. They were from my first trip to Silverfang. Back then, the pack had started to feel almost like a second home.

“Do you remember those days?” he asked quietly.

“I do,” I said. “I never forgot.”

A faint smile crossed his face. “You were a quiet boy back then. Always following your father. I remember you once told me I was the man you admired most after him.”

I remembered that too, right up until the day he betrayed us. “Is that why you called me here? To reminisce?” I asked.

The Alpha King chuckled, which made me frown. “What’s so funny?”

“You sound just like your father when he is angry,” he said.

I crossed my arms. “If this is just about the past, you’re wasting your time. I won't look back.”

“I’m not trying to waste your time, Nolan,” he said with a sigh. “I wanted to talk before the Sacrifice Ceremony. There’s something you should know.”

“And what’s that?”

“Your father’s memorial day is coming up,” he said. “It’ll fall right after the ceremony. I thought maybe we could commemorate it together.”

That caught me off guard. I hadn’t expected him to bring up my father, much less suggest honoring him.

“I haven’t observed his memorial day in years,” I said. “There’s nothing to commemorate while his killer is still out there.”

“You still believe there’s more to it than what was reported?” he asked.

“I don’t believe it,” I said firmly. “I know. My father was accused of crimes he didn’t commit. Until I uncover the truth, I can’t celebrate anything.”

He studied me for a moment. He looked sad, maybe disappointed. “You’ve carried that resentment for a long time,” he said.

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