The Rejected Luna (Avery and Kaden) novel Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Isla, who had maintained her silence up until this moment, suddenly stepped forward, her presence radiating a fierce protectiveness. “Do you not understand plain words? Hazel doesn’t want to see you!” Her voice cut through the tension like a knife, sharp and unyielding.

I felt a surge of frustration rise within me. “You think a simple ‘sorry’ just wipes the slate clean? What gives you the right to come here and speak to me like that?” My words were laced with anger, and I could see the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. She may not have known the intricate details of our shared past, but her instincts to defend were as instinctual as breathing.

The three of them—Mike, Luna, and Adrian—paled even further, their faces draining of color. It was as if my words had physically struck them, leaving them momentarily stunned.

I instinctively pulled Isla behind me, a protective gesture that felt both natural and necessary. “It’s alright,” I reassured her, though my heart was racing. After all, I had witnessed their ruthless nature a decade ago, and the memories were etched in my mind like scars.

Mike’s gaze was piercing, filled with a mixture of pain and disbelief. “Hazel… you care more about a stranger now?” His voice was tight, strained with emotion.

I felt my polite facade shatter like glass. “A stranger?” I echoed, incredulous.

“Alpha, you’re mistaken,” he insisted, desperation creeping into his tone.

“Isla is my only family now,” I declared fiercely, my voice unwavering.

“She’s the only person in this world I care about,” I added, feeling a swell of protectiveness wash over me. The truth of my feelings hung heavy in the air.

If it hadn’t been for Isla, I would have been nothing more than a lifeless body buried beneath the snow long ago. I could still vividly recall that fateful day when she had been just an underage rogue, yet she had dragged my unconscious form from the icy depths of the forest lake to the safety of a cave.

When I finally woke, disoriented and desperate, I had tried to use a jagged piece of silver to end my suffering. In that moment of despair, she had thrown herself at me, tears streaming down her cheeks as she fought to take the blade away. “You’re so beautiful, and you make such amazing desserts… why would you want to die?” she had sobbed, her voice trembling with raw emotion.

“When people try to break you, you survive just to prove them wrong!” she had shouted, her spirit unyielding.

“If… if no one else will be good to you, let me do it instead, okay?” Her words had struck a chord deep within me, and the half piece of bread she had handed me, still warm from her hands, had felt like a lifeline.

I had gazed into her bright, dark eyes, and my heart twisted painfully at the thought of losing her.

In the days that followed, we had squeezed ourselves into a cramped trailer, sharing a single bowl of instant noodles that felt like a feast. Together, we had run from pack enforcers, selling snacks on the street to survive.

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