The Abandoned Luna's Journey to Power (by Emily Reed) novel Chapter 201

Chapter 201 A Powerful Soul

Cindy’s POV:

The side parlor fell into a deathly silence.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

Could I blame Roger? No.

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He had buried that child with his own hands. I understood that kind of despair. To him, this sudden hope must feel less like mercy and more like a cruel joke.

But when I turned toward the inner room, my steps faltered.

Through the half-drawn curtain, I saw Astra leaning against the windowsill, staring outside. Perhaps he sensed my gaze. He turned his head.

When he noticed my swollen, reddened eyes, he said nothing. He simply blinked at me, then pointed to his own chest, pointed to me, and finally struck a childish pose Steven used to make, a silly gesture that meant “I’m strong.”

Even now, thin as a little chick, he performed it with complete seriousness.

He was comforting me.

This child, enduring shattered bones and poison coursing through his body, was comforting me.

“What a powerful soul,” Diana said, her voice carrying unmistakable respect for the first time. “Cindy, stop crying. Tears are the fluids of the weak. For this little wolf, you must be stronger than ever.”

I forced down the bitterness and fury rising in my chest and returned to the side parlor.

“Since they don’t believe it, then there’s no rush,” I said, my voice turning cold and steady. “Once Rupert has solid medical documentation, once Astra recovers a little, I will personally bring witnesses and evidence to their door. By then, even if that corpse climbed out of its grave, it wouldn’t outweigh a living person standing right in front of them.”

Rupert nodded. “Exactly. The priority right now is treatment.”

“Rupert, about that addiction,” I said after taking a deep breath, asking the question that had been twisting my heart. “Prince Adam said it was a drug that controls the mind. On the road back, I saw him trembling sometimes, but he never cried out in pain. How deep does this poison really go?”

Rupert’s expression grew grave. He took a small black vial from his medical kit and dripped a drop of liquid onto a test strip.

“If my guess is correct, it’s something circulating in the underground black market called Nightmare Dust,” Rupert said, his voice frighteningly low. “Human traffickers use it specifically to control high-ranking werewolf pups or slaves. It’s extremely addictive. Once the drug is stopped, withdrawal feels like ten thousand ants devouring the body, like the soul is being burned alive. Many adult Alphas can’t endure it.

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Chapter 201 A Powerful Soul

They self-harm, even smash their heads against walls, just to escape the agony.”

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