Reclaiming My Broken Luna (Astrid and Killian) novel Chapter 346

Astrid’s POV

“Father,” I whispered, the word foreign on my tongue. I had never called him that before.

It had always been “Alpha Theron” or just “Alpha.” Whenever I call him that, I could always see it in his face how he desired to hear me call him father.

“Father, Father!” I called him repeatedly, hoping he would hear me, but it was too late.

I reached out with trembling hands, brushing the blood-matted hair from his face.

His skin was cold, his eyes closed, his features still etched with the dignity of the leader he had been.

My vision blurred with tears that spilled over, unchecked and endless.

“I’m sorry,” I choked, the words barely audible through the sobs that wracked my body. “I’m so sorry, Father. I wasn’t a good daughter. I was so hard on you, so angry. I should’ve… I should’ve forgiven you.”

The words tumbled out in a torrent, each one a dagger to my heart. “I was too stubborn. Too proud. You tried to make things right, and I wouldn’t let you. I thought we had more time… I thought…” My voice broke, and I leaned over him, clutching his hand in mine. It was still, unresponsive.

“I forgive you, Father,” I whispered, my tears dripping onto his lifeless form. “I forgive you. I love you. I need you. Please wake up. Please don’t leave me.”

My chest heaved with sobs, and I buried my face in his shoulder. “I’ll be better. I’ll be a better daughter, I promise. Just… please, come back. I need more time. I need you.”

But there was no response, no flicker of life in his still frame. The realization crushed me, and I let out a raw, anguished cry, my body trembling as I clung to him.

“Father, I’m so sorry,” I sobbed as I called him father as many times as I could even though I knew he couldn’t hear me.

He never had the chance to hear me call him father. I never had the chance to make things right with him.

“I’m sorry father, I promise I will make it up to you. Please, come back. From now on, I will be a better daughter to you just come back.”

I wish I forgave him. I wish I didn’t hold on to my anger so much. I wasted the short time I had with my father. Now, I cannot bring everything back.

I stroked his face gently, my voice cracking as I spoke. “I love you, Father. I always have, even when I was too angry to say it. Please, don’t leave me.”

But he was already gone.

Suddenly, a new voice broke through my despair.

“Father!” Asha’s cry tore through the stillness like a blade.

I turned my head to see her running toward us, her face pale, her eyes wide with shock and grief. She stumbled as she reached us, collapsing to her knees beside me.

“No, no, no,” Asha murmured, her hands trembling as she reached for his face.

Asha and Andros met each other’s gaze. Asha looked confused, but she didn’t say a word. Andros averted his gaze first as he looked at me.

“It was too late when I found him fighting a rogue,” he answered

“Too late?” I repeated, my eyes narrowing. “You mean to tell me that Father, one of the strongest Alphas, was easily overpowered by a single rogue?”

Andros’s jaw tightened offended by my question. “Are you accusing me, Astrid? Are you saying that I killed father? That I stood there and watched as he was mercilessly slaughtered by some rogue?”

I fell silent at the weight of his words, but his answer didn’t quell the the storm of doubt swirling in my mind. For me, it seemed more sense that an act of betrayal happened here.

The rogues’ attack had been too precise, too calculated. They had infiltrated the Pack with alarming speed, bypassing even our most advanced defenses.

It was as though they had inside knowledge—information that could have only come from someone close to us.

I took a step forward, my eyes boring into his. “The rogues knew too much, Andros. They were too prepared. How could they infiltrate the Pack this fast? How could they have known where to strike? Tell me the truth.”

His eyes darkened, a flicker of something unrecognizable flashing in them.“You don’t know what you’re saying, Astrid. How dare you? How dare you stand here and accuse me of such a thing? Do you think I would ever betray this Pack? That I would ever harm my own father?”

“You tell me,” I countered, my voice firm and unyielding. “You’re the one who left the battlefield without a word. You’re the one who found him. And now, he’s dead. You were there, Andros. You were the last one to see him alive.”

His expression twisted into something wounded, but I couldn’t tell if it was genuine or a carefully crafted act, and then he pulled out the book which made me fall silent.