The Second Chance Of The Rejected Moon (Celine and Bastian) novel Chapter 82

The Second Chance Of The Rejected Moon

Chapter 82

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For quite a while, we continue along snow-covered trails, crossing a forest that seems to have no end. Dawn continues spreading across the horizon, and the first rays of sunlight paint the frozen trees in shades of gold and orange. The landscape is so beautiful that it’s hard to believe that less than an hour ago I was walking beneath the humid heat of a jungle

And then I see it.

The supposed cave.

The enormous stone structure emerges from among the trees like a fortress forgotten by time. Tall walls of gray rock rike several meters above the ground, and the gigantic dark wooden doors look capable of withstanding an entire army.

It looks absolutely nothing like a cave.

“That’s not a cave,” I murmur.

“I’ve been seeing it as one for years,” Bastian replies.

The doors open before we can get any closer.

Magnus appears with a huge smile on his face. He’s wearing lightweight trousers and a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, as if we weren’t standing in the middle of a frozen forest.

Apparently, the only person freezing to death is me.

“You’ll get used to it. Once we’re finally able to shift into our animal forms, you’ll love the snow.”

Astra seems absurdly happy to be standing in that endless expanse of ice, mountains, and frozen trees.

“Celine, sweetheart! What a delight it is to see you here!”

Magnus completely ignores his son and rushes down the steps to wrap me in a hug so tight that he almost lifts me off the ground.

“What did you do to your hair?”

His smile disappears only a few seconds later.

Because when he steps back to get a better look at me, his eyes travel over my face, stop on my blue eyes, and then slowly return to my hair.

“It seems a human year away from home has made you forget that I exist and that the woman you’re hugging is my mate,” Bastian says while trying to pull me away from him, though Magnus doesn’t seem willing to let go.

His father’s smile widens when he notices the mating mark on my neck.

“And it seems to have made you even grumpier and more unbearable.”

What I don’t understand is the part about “a human year.”

According to my calculations, I’ve only been in the kingdom for about a week.

“I know you have many questions, sweetheart, but first you need to meet my father.”

Magnus completely ignores his son, who responds with an annoyed growl, and begins walking toward the interior of the

enormous structure.

Tue, May 10

The Second Chance Of The Rejected Moon

We follow him.

The place is a palace.

B

The ceilings are high, the walls are built from enormous blocks of dark stone, and thick wooden beams stretch across the ceiling. The air is warm and smells of firewood, leather, and freshly cooked food. Several lamps illuminate the corridors. and enormous windows offer a view of the snowy forest surrounding the property.

I’m so busy taking it all in that I barely notice when Magnus suddenly stops,

His expression changes when his eyes settle on something behind me.

Or. more specifically, on the sword strapped across my back.

The amusement slowly leaves his face, and his smile fades as he studies it in silence, as though he has just come face-to-face with something he never expected to see again.

“Is that Erebus?”

I smile with a certain amount of pride because I know exactly why he recognizes her.

“It is, Magnus.”

“That’s impossible. That sword is…”

“Heavy.” I pull it from its sheath and show it to him. “For others, not for me.”

I make a small flick of my wrist with it and rest it on his shoulder.

The joke nearly causes him to lose his balance, and Magnus stumbles back a step with an expression somewhere between shocked and offended.

“Bloody hell, Celine. How is that possible? That sword is so heavy that almost nobody can lift it.”

“That’s because, dear son, that sword chooses its bearer, not the other way around.”

A man’s voice makes all of us look up.

Standing atop the wide stone staircase is someone who appears to be less than fifty years old. If Bastian is two hundred and sixteen and Magnus is three hundred and sixty-eight, then Grandfather Thorn must be much older.

Far older.

And yet he looks absurdly young.

Is there such a thing as an unpleasant-looking Thorn?

“You must be my granddaughter.” He throws a sharp glance at Bastian. “Couldn’t you have found someone better?”

I immediately lower my gaze, feeling awful because those words make me feel small.

“What terrible taste you have, girl. But welcome to the family.”

The grandfather lets out a low chuckle, and Bastian instantly becomes furious.

“Do the world a favor and shut your mouth, you decrepit old man! How could you possibly say something like that? She thought you were talking about me!”

Bastian takes my hand while Grandfather Thorn, who somehow seems even more attractive than his own son or grandson,

13.12 Tue, Aug 18 F

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