The Rejected Luna (Avery and Kaden) novel Chapter 18

**Title: Between Then and Now by Mark Twain**

**Chapter 9**

**Christian’s POV**

“Carrie, are you feeling alright? Is there anywhere else that hurts?”

As soon as her eyelids fluttered open, we all sprang into action, our expressions a mix of concern and fear.

Lysander was the first to break the silence. “Promise me you won’t do anything that reckless again. You’re part of our family, and we can’t bear to lose you.”

Carrie’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, her face contorting with pain as she reached for my hand, her grip tight and desperate.

“I was just… so scared that you wouldn’t want me anymore. What happened back then… yes, I know it was my fault.”

Her voice trembled, and as she bowed her head, soft sobs escaped her lips, each one striking a chord deep within me.

The others, their faces etched with sorrow, mirrored my feelings.

“Don’t be afraid, Blair. The past is behind us now. We’re here for you, always,” Lysander reassured her, his tone soothing and protective. Orion and Zayden nodded in agreement, their expressions equally warm, wrapping her in a cocoon of support.

I watched her, and an unsettling feeling began to gnaw at my chest. It was as if I was on the verge of losing something precious, something I couldn’t quite name.

“Christian,” Carrie whispered, her gaze locking onto mine, her voice fragile and quivering. “Are you still angry with me?”

“No. Please, don’t overthink it,” I replied softly, trying to convey the depth of my feelings with my eyes. “Just focus on resting.”

At that moment, the pack doctor entered the room, his presence commanding yet calm.

“How’s Carrie doing?” he inquired, his brow furrowing in concern.

“Physically, she’s fi—”

Before I could finish my sentence, Carrie suddenly gasped, clutching her chest, her face twisting in agony as she let out a piercing scream.

“It hurts—my chest—it hurts so badly!”

Panic surged through us like a tidal wave as we all rushed to her side.

“Lysander! Christian… I don’t want to stay here. I want to go home,” she pleaded, her voice laced with desperation.

Lysander’s expression darkened, his concern evident. “You’re not well, Carrie. You need proper medical treatment.”

Carrie lowered her gaze, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I know my own body. But I don’t want to be here. I want to be home—with you.”

In that moment, none of us could argue with her. We exchanged glances, and with a shared understanding, we decided to take her home.

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