The Second Chance Of The Rejected Moon (Celine and Bastian) novel Chapter 197

Chapter 197

Zrzel remains standing in front of me with Erebus in one hand and an expression of satisfaction he cannot hide.

Now each of us is holding one of the swords. And something about the room feels different.

Maybe it is the energy they give off. Maybe it is the way they both seem to respond to being separated again, but now in different hands. The air feels denser and warmer around us, charged with an energy that was not there before. Even the fire in the fireplaces seems to move strangely, as if the flames are reacting to the presence of the two weapons.

“Tell me what you want to know.”

I frown.

“What do you mean?”

Zharzel slowly lowers Erebus and rests it against his shoulder. He watches me with an expression that immediately makes me suspect he is about to point out something I forgot.

“Earlier you asked what he was like. Just tell me what you want to know about Legion, and I will tell you.”

I had forgotten.

I had also forgotten that he never answered my question.

I look at Zharzel with narrowed eyes, and he has the decency to smile as if he had not just caught himself steering a conversation in another direction for several minutes until he managed to make me completely forget what I wanted to

know.

He is a demon.

And, apparently, a rather skilled one at manipulating a conversation without the other person realizing it.

“You are incredible,” I murmur.

“Thank you.”

“It was not a compliment.”

“I know.”

I shake my head and let out a small laugh. Then I lower my gaze toward Helel and once again feel that warm vibration run through my fingers. I raise my eyes toward Erebus, now held by Zharzel, and then look back at the demon. The curiosity I felt before returns with much greater force. Now that I finally have his attention and the two swords are calm in our hands, I am not going to let him change the subject again.

I take a step closer.

“I want to know everything.”

When I return to the bedroom with my daughter in my arms, I find the room completely dark. Only the area around the fireplace remains illuminated by the flames slowly consuming the logs, casting long, trembling shadows across the stone walls and furniture. The warmth still lingers in the room, and the soft crackling of the fire is the only sound breaking the silence.

I approach the bed and carefully lay Oana down on the mattress. The little girl moves, wrinkles her nose, and settles her cheek against the sheets again. I pull the blanket up to cover her chest and spend a few seconds watching as her peaceful breathing moves the fabric. Then I take my swords and place them on the dresser, in the spot where I always keep them.

14

Mon, Aug Si

ཆ་

-The Second Chance Of The Rejected Moon

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although now I feel that they are no longer simply weapons resting on a piece of furniture. After everything I discovered tonight, it is difficult for me to look at them the same way.

Í straighten and turn on the light with the intention of taking a shower, but I startle slightly when a figure appears in one of

the corners of the room.

Bastian.

He is sitting in a chair, completely motionless, like a specter that has been waiting in the darkness for hours. One of his hands holds a bottle of liquor while the other rests on the arm of the chair. His shirt is wrinkled, his hair disheveled, and several strands fall over his forehead. His face is slightly flushed and his eyes are narrowed.

No. He is drunk.

The thought has barely formed in my mind when Bastian stands. The piece of furniture scrapes against the floor as it moves backward, and he begins walking quickly toward me. His steps are heavy but steady. When he raises his eyes, his yellow eyes lock onto mine and a low growl vibrates in his throat.

I instinctively take a couple of steps backward.

“Where were you?”

The question comes with a tight grip around my wrist. His fingers close so tightly that I immediately feel the pressure, and he pulls me against his body. The smell of alcohol mixed with his natural scent hits me as he lowers his head and begins to sniff me, running along my neck and hair as if desperately searching for evidence of another man.

My body tenses.

“Bastian…”

He growls again and clenches his jaw.

“And who the hell were you fooling around with?” His voice echoes through the room. “You stink of another man, Celine!”

Before I can answer, he pushes me against the wall. My back hits the stone, and the impact makes me hold my breath. Astra stirs inside me, but, to my absolute indignation, instead of confronting his dominant aura, she retreats and submits to him.

Traitor.

“Have you lost your mind?” I whisper, although my voice comes out filled with anger. “And stop shouting. Our daughter is asleep and you could scare her.”

I glance toward the bed. Oana remains asleep, completely unaware of what is happening a few feet away.

I raise both hands and press them against Bastian’s chest to push him away. I push with all my strength, but he does not move an inch. His body remains firm against mine, and his hot breath hits my face. His eyes remain fixed on mine.

“I asked you a question.”

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