The Rejected Luna (Avery and Kaden) novel Chapter 22

**Chapter 13**

**Christian’s POV**

As soon as I crossed the threshold into Carrie’s room, an overwhelming wave of revulsion washed over me. Just the sight of her was enough to ignite a storm of emotions within me.

She recoiled slightly at the sight of me, but only for a fleeting moment. Almost instinctively, she donned that familiar facade, as if slipping on a well-worn coat.

“Christian, what brings you here at such an hour?” she murmured, her voice a concoction of feigned innocence and just enough guilt to make it believable. “About today… I’ve moved past it. I realize now you only acted that way because of Blair—”

“Shut up.”

In a flash of fury, my hand connected with her face.

The sound of the slap echoed in the room, cutting through her pretentious words like a knife. She crumpled to the floor, her cheek already blooming a furious red. Clutching her face, she looked up at me, her eyes wide with disbelief, tears threatening to spill over at any moment.

“Christian… how could you strike me?” she whimpered, trembling as if she were a delicate creature caught in a storm.

But I was finished with the charade. I lunged forward, my hand wrapping around her throat, and I shoved her back down with a force that left no room for protest.

“Are you still trying to weasel your way out of this?!”

My grip tightened unconsciously, and I felt her nails clawing at my arms, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to plead, but no sound emerged. Her face began to take on a sickly hue, and her eyes lost their focus, flickering like a candle in the wind.

Finally, I released her.

She tumbled to the ground, gasping for breath, a vivid red mark blossoming on her neck. I didn’t allow her a moment to recover; I yanked her up by her hair, forcing her to meet my gaze.

“Carrie. That cancer you claimed to have—was it real, or just another one of your damn lies?!”

Lysander and the others stood frozen, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief, as if they were witnessing a stranger instead of someone they thought they knew.

Silence hung in the air, thick and suffocating.

She offered no response.

I shoved her away with a force that sent her head crashing into the edge of the table, and blood immediately began to trickle down from her forehead. Yet, none of us moved to help her.

No one rushed to her side, no one called her “little girl.”

“And the rest?” I pressed, my voice low and dangerous.

She crumbled completely, pouring out every sordid detail through her tears.

“I orchestrated it all… the snake in the gift box—I placed it there; I wanted to frame Blair… The photographs from the birthday party—I hired someone to capture them… and everything that unfolded afterward… every single thing… it was me…”

With each word she uttered, my heart sank further into despair.

I looked at her—bloodied, weeping, on her knees, pleading for mercy—and I realized I could no longer see any trace of the girl I had once trusted… the one I had fought to protect.

That sweet, innocent child I thought I knew? Just a serpent masquerading behind a beautiful facade.

And then, unbidden, Blair’s weary, lonely eyes from that last day flashed before me—still so incredibly strong despite the despair.

She was gone—her body still lost at the bottom of that cliff—and only now were we beginning to grasp the horrifying truth.

But she would never hear our apologies.

I clenched my fists so tightly that my nails dug into my skin, the pain grounding me in a sea of rage and regret. It consumed me, burning me alive from the inside out.