Second Chance for the Barren Luna (Talia and Jason) novel Chapter 302

Talia’s POV

My wolf howled within me as grief and rage consumed me, as I felt my father’s aura vanish as his blood pooled around him on the floor.

I lunged into the room for Nolan. I slammed hard into him. His back struck the wall, knocking the air out of him. I clawed at him, ripping the flesh of his neck and chest. Nolan brought his hands up defensively to keep me from tearing his neck out, but he did not try to fight me.

“Talia, stop! Stop!”

Solon grabbed my waist to pull me off Nolan. I threw my head back and hit his face, making him let go with a curse. I pushed him away. Leslie was shouting, but I couldn’t make out her words. I hit Nolan again, and he still didn’t defend himself.

“Why? Why, Nolan?!” I screamed. “Why did you do it? Explain now!”

“Talia, I…”

“Tell me why,” I screamed and swung at him again.

Nolan caught my wrists and held them. He didn’t fight back, but pulled me against his chest. I fought him, but he didn’t let go.

“Let go of me! Let go, you bastard! You murdered my father!” I screamed at him.

“Talia, I’m so sorry,” Nolan responded as he held on to me.

Leslie was behind me. I felt a needle in my arm before I understood what she was doing. Cold spread through my arm from whatever she injected into me.

“Save him, please,” I pleaded. The word was already slurring as it came out. “Leslie. Save him. Please. Please save him...”

The last thing I saw was Nolan’s face, tears streaming down his cheeks, before everything went dark.

A moment later, I opened my eyes and found myself in a garden. There was soft golden light surrounding me, and the scent of roses was everywhere. Roses climbed trellises, spilled from beds, and lined a path by a low stone wall. I recognized this place. I hadn’t tended to it since returning to Silverfang.

My father was at the end of the path, kneeling by a rose bush with pruning shears in his hand. He looked much younger than he really was. His hair was thick and black again, not white and thin. He wore the pink sweater my mother bought for him, the one he stopped wearing after she died.

“Father?”

He looked up, and he smiled.

“Talia, come here,” he said with his arms wide open.

I ran to him. He caught me, and I clung to his sweater, crying into it and unable to speak for a long time.

“H-How are you here? I saw you die. Nolan killed you… I saw him kill you…”

Father stroked the back of my head. “Talia. Do you trust Nolan?”

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