The Second Chance Of The Rejected Moon (Celine and Bastian) novel Chapter 41

Chapter 41

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I smile a little as I remember my grandmother’s old cabin and the few happy moments I had there when I was a child. The damp smell of earth, old wood, and cold air coming through the open windows manages to bring back memories I thought I had forgotten.

Ten minutes later, just as the road begins to narrow even more and the wheels splash mud to the sides, a group of people appears, completely blocking the path.

Alaric slows down until the vehicle comes to a complete stop. The roar of the engine disappears and the silence inside the SUV becomes strange, heavy. My heart gives a small lurch when I look through the windshield at the people waiting in front of us. They do not seem happy to see us. Some wear old clothes covered in mud, others hold work tools, and several man watch Bastian’s black vehicles with obvious distrust.

“We’re here.”

Alaric turns off the engine and gets out first before walking around the SUV to open my door. Both he and Aymara are dressed just like me, in comfortable clothes, sturdy boots, and thick padded jackets to withstand the damp southern cold. know what the outskirts of packs are like, and that is why I came prepared.

When the door opens, I step directly into the mud and take the hand offered by the future Royal Beta. The cold wind immediately hits my face and the smell of damp earth, wood smoke, and animals fills the air.

People look at one another when they see me get out of the vehicle, as if they had expected someone completely different. Their gazes move from me to Aymara and then return to my face while they begin whispering among themselves.

Aymara seems to be known here.

That helps a little.

“Good afternoon, everyone.” I speak up before Alaric can introduce me. “I’m sorry for the delay.”

Several gazes remain fixed on me.

They do not seem impressed.

And honestly… I like that.

“My name is Celine Miller and I am Prince Bastian Thorn’s mate. I have been looking forward to meeting all of you.”

I walk toward them through the mud and puddles without disgust or discomfort. Cold water splashes against my boots as 1 move forward and finally stop in front of a broad-shouldered old man whose weathered face clearly suggests he represents the rest.

The old man openly looks me up and down.

“Welcome,” he finally says, although his gaze continues drifting down to my mud-covered boots.

“Thank you, sir. I would like to walk through the village and help today with whatever you need.”

A woman holding a small child in her arms lets out a mocking laugh.

“You?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t look like a noble. Now that’s something new.”

Aymara and Alaric discreetly position themselves at my sides, ready to intervene if someone crosses a line, but when the people realize that I am genuinely serious, they begin making room for us.

“That’s because I’m not,” I reply with a slight shrug. “The stuck-up noblewomen will take a little longer to arrive. They’re

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coming in an old bus.”

Several people let out small laughs, and that eases the atmosphere a little.

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The child in the woman’s arms begins to cry while reaching toward me, and before thinking too much about it, I hold out my arms.

“Hello, little one.” I gently tickle his belly while wiping his runny nose with my fingers. “Do you want to come with me for a while?”

The mother hesitates for a few seconds before handing him over to me, and the child almost immediately stops crying

The old man continues watching me as if trying to figure out whether all of this is some ridiculous act or if I truly mean what I say.

As we walk through the small village surrounded by the people who have started following us, Aymara pulls a notebook and a pen from her jacket and begins writing down everything I point out.

Streetlights, new roads and sidewalks. New roofs, new windows, and materials to repair the small houses that look badly worn down by the years.

All of this will have to go through Bastian for approval.

And honestly, I hope he tears off a few heads when he sees how these people are living.

I come to a complete stop when we pass in front of a neglected little school. The exterior wood is deteriorated, several windows are cracked, and the roof looks as if it is about to collapse.

Indignation tightens my chest.

Things were bad in the Black Moon Pack, but I never saw anything like this.

I turn toward the old man without fearing rejection.

“Can we sit somewhere and talk?”

The old man slowly nods, although a smile full of mischief appears on his weathered face.

And then we hear it.

The old school bus has finally arrived.

Its brakes squeal in the distance and the vehicle comes to a stop several meters behind us.

Now it’s my turn to want to laugh.

“You can give the royal court ladies a warm welcome,” I say, looking at the group of women who have already begun gathering around. “And don’t hold back too much. I don’t like them.”

The mother of the little boy I’m carrying nods with complete seriousness.

I swear to the Goddess I can see happiness in her eyes.

The old man starts walking ahead of us, guiding us toward an old barn built from dark wood worn down by time and moisture. The roof creaks softly in the wind, and the smell of hay, wet earth, and animals fills the air as soon as we get closer.

Our boots sink slightly into the mud gathered in front of the entrance, and the little boy in my arms clings more tightly to my jacket while looking around with curiosity.

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