The Rejected Luna (Avery and Kaden) novel Chapter 20

20 /135

**Between Then and Now by Mark Twain**

**Chapter 11**

**Christian’s POV**

I scoured every inch of that treacherous cliff, my heart pounding with desperation. The jagged rocks, worn by relentless winds, seemed to mock my frantic search. I examined every crevice near the frayed remnants of the broken rope, probing the pale, wind-blasted stones as if they held the answers to my unspoken fears. I refused to leave a single spot unturned.

When I finally reached the bottom, I didn’t pause for breath. The waves crashed violently against the shore, and the cold wind bit into my skin like a thousand needles, but I pushed on. I climbed into a small boat, the wooden hull creaking under my weight, and began my search anew, inch by painstaking inch.

Desperation clawed at my insides as I donned diving gear and plunged into the frigid water, my heart racing with the hope of finding even the faintest trace of her. I scoured the depths, willing the ocean to reveal any sign of Blair. But it was as if she had simply vanished, erased from existence, leaving behind nothing but silence.

By the time I returned to the pack house, I was drenched, my clothes clinging to me like a second skin, but it was my heart that felt even more frigid, encased in an ice of despair. Just two days—two short days—had passed, yet I felt as though I had aged a lifetime. The reflection that stared back at me in the mirror was almost unrecognizable, a ghost of the man I used to be.

As I stepped into the living room, Carrie rushed towards me, her expression frantic. “Christian, I know you’re worried about Blair, but… the dead are gone.”

I lifted my gaze, locking eyes with her, fury and pain swirling within me. Her words pierced through my mind like barbed wire, each syllable a fresh wound. The intensity of my stare made her freeze, her bravado faltering as if she sensed the storm brewing inside me.

In an instant, her voice faltered, silenced by the weight of my gaze. She stood there, rigid and still, like a statue frozen in time, unwilling to utter another word.

I held my silence, a quiet resolve settling over me, and she seemed to mirror my stubbornness, remaining motionless before me. In a different time, I would have crossed the room to comfort her, to reassure her as I had so many times before.

But this time, I simply watched her, my demeanor calm, waiting for her to break the silence first.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours as we remained locked in this silent standoff. Then, without warning, her eyes brimmed with tears, and a single drop fell to the floor with a sharp smack.

She quickly wiped it away, her expression shifting to one of anguish, and bolted from the room, not even glancing back. It was as if she had been deeply wronged, and instinctively, I took a step forward, ready to follow her. But then I stopped, paralyzed by my own uncertainty.

What was I doing? How had it come to this between Blair and me?

Five years ago, when Carrie had left me standing at the altar, I had made Blair my Luna—partly out of spite, but also because I believed it was a path I had to take. But in these five years… had I really not fallen in love with her at all?

No, that couldn’t be true. How could I have lived with her for five years without falling for her?

I turned away from Carrie’s lingering presence and made my way to the room that Blair and I had once shared. The door creaked open, revealing a space untouched for days—empty, desolate. The faint scent of cleaning supplies lingered in the air, a reminder of the life that once thrived within these walls.

I settled onto the window seat, gazing out at the yellowed leaves drifting lazily to the ground. Memories surged through my mind—Blair and Carrie, their laughter echoing in my ears, the moments I had taken for granted, the words I had dismissed.