The Abandoned Luna's Journey to Power (by Emily Reed) novel Chapter 223

Chapter 223 In Surgery

Chapter 223 In Surgery

Prince Adam’s POV:

Inside, the air was suffocating.

I shrugged off my outer jacket and tossed it onto a nearby chair.

Astra lay on the bed, face pale as paper, still trembling slightly.

I sat at the head of the bed.

My hands held his thin shoulders, and I wrapped his cold little hands in mine.

“Rupert.”

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I looked at the doctor, who was arranging hammers and steel pins on a tray. My gaze lingered on the cruel, blunt bone clamp.

That tool was too harsh for this boy.

A faint smile crossed my lips, breaking the tense silence. “Maybe this job should be mine. My strength is steadier than that cold clamp.”

Rupert blinked, then smiled.

He understood.

“Fine,” he said, half-joking, “if you’re the one doing the breaking, this kid will have bragging rights forever. Follow my lead.”

“That’s better,” I murmured.

Through the thick walls and door, I could sense the tension outside-the anxious pacing of Roger, the elders’ whispered prayers, and Cindy.

She was listening at the door, nails digging into her palm, straining to catch every sound.

Because of her, I had to do this perfectly.

The sharp scent of alcohol hung in the room.

I furrowed my brow and released my Alpha pheromones, wrapping the little wolf cub in a protective aura.

“Ready?” I asked calmly.

I didn’t use restraints; they would only humiliate him.

Instead, I leaned in, creating a secure physical cage with my body.

My left hand pressed his hands to his chest-both restraint and protection. My right hand rested on his

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Chapter 223 In Surgery

intact left leg, preventing any lower-body movement.

Rupert positioned his hands on the deformed right leg, locating the fracture points.

The tension was unbearable.

Astra’s breathing sped up, and his eyes widened with fear.

I had to distract him.

“Astra,” I said, casual as if we were sitting by a fire, “do you know how mischievous your aunt was as a kid?”

It worked.

The boy stiffened and lifted his head in confusion. His eyes were fixed on me, unsure why I was telling this story now.

“Don’t be fooled by the poised duchess she is today,” I said, signaling Rupert with my eyes.

My right hand slid silently from his left leg to the calf of the broken right leg.

Fingers touched the crooked bone; I channeled my wolf energy, storing it in my palm.

But I kept talking, keeping the smile on my face.

“When she studied at the academy, she was known as a ‘tomboy. One day, she insisted on racing Fern to climb the back wall to steal those sour wild berries.”

Rupert nodded subtly.

Signal received.

I pushed the story to its climax, quickening my pace, “It had just rained, so the wall was slick. Fern gave up halfway, but your aunt-stubborn-kept climbing. She reached for the berries, and then, she slipped…”

Astra was drawn in.

He pictured Cindy slipping on the wall, nerves easing slightly.

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