Second Chance for the Barren Luna (Talia and Jason) novel Chapter 468

Talia’s POV

The first thing I noticed was that I liked it here.

It felt strange. Every room looked like I had chosen it myself. The colors, the heavy curtains, the low furniture, and the reading chair in the sunny corner were all things I would pick. Even the hallways felt right. I waited for something to feel wrong, but everything fit.

“Who decorated?” I asked, glancing around the room.

“You chose the main rooms, the colors, where everything goes. You spent your first year here rearranging everything,” Nolan explained. “You said it was no longer a lonely bachelor’s pad.”

“Was it?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, you were right,” Nolan agreed, giving me a small smile.

He led me out the back and into the rose garden. This was where I had hidden when I first woke up.

“This too?” I asked, looking at the garden.

“Yes,” Nolan confirmed, staying back and letting me walk ahead. "You once told me your father’s garden at Silverfang was the only place you could really think. You wanted to make something like that here."

I walked between the rows of roses until I found the deep purple ones. Those were his favorites, the kind he used to grow. I stood in the middle of the garden I had planted for him, knelt down, and picked a rose.

Holding it, I whispered, “I miss you, Father. I wish I could remember more. I feel so lost without you.”

For a moment, it was just me and the flowers. I let myself cry.

'Enough now,' my wolf said gently. 'He wouldn’t want you lost in sadness. You have two pups and a mate who need you right now. We’ll have time to grieve later. For now, let’s be strong.'

She was right. I wiped my face and walked back up the path.

Nolan showed me the rest of the house, then led me upstairs to a room with two beds, a window seat, and a mess everywhere.

“This is theirs,” Nolan announced, gesturing to the room.

It was a good room. One side was crowded with weapons, training gear, and a map pinned up crooked. The other side had a shelf of books and nine stuffed animals lined up in a careful row. Someone had painted a tree up the wall between the beds, so it felt like it belonged to both of them.

“Did you do this?” I asked, pointing at the painted tree.

“There wasn’t anyone else to do it,” Nolan admitted, his voice soft.

"You did an amazing job," I said, looking at the tree. "You’re a great dad, Nolan. The twins are happy because of you. I’m really grateful for everything you’ve done for them."

“I didn’t do it alone. Clara, Annie, and Della helped me,” Nolan added, glancing away for a moment.

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