Reclaiming My Broken Luna (Astrid and Killian) novel Chapter 389

Drystan’s POV

The council chamber at the Silvermoon camp was more crowded than usual, but the air was heavy with unease.

After everything we had learned from Rowena and Andros, tensions ran higher than ever.

Wolves from allied Packs whispered among themselves, their voices sharp with mistrust.

Killian stood at the head of the chamber, his presence commanding as always, but even he couldn’t mask the strain on his face.

Astrid sat to his right, her eyes dark with fatigue. Nova was beside me, her hand resting on her thigh, her tension palpable.

Andros and Rowena sat on the far side of the room, their backs straight despite the weight of every glare in the room directed at them.

Andros leaned casually against the wall, but Rowena remained composed, her sharp eyes sweeping over the gathered wolves with quiet authority.

“We’ve heard what they’ve told us,” one of the elders said, his voice echoing through the room. “But how can we trust anything that comes from the mouths of traitors?”

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the chamber.

“Enough,” Killian said, his voice cutting through the noise like a blade. “We don’t have to trust them, but we can’t afford to ignore what they’ve told us. If the Rogue King is planning to sever Pack bonds, then we need to act before it’s too late.”

“And what about Rowena?” another elder demanded. “She’s lied before. She’s manipulated us at every turn. And now we’re supposed to believe she suddenly has the Pack’s best interests at heart?”

“She knows more about the Amulet and the Rogue King’s plans than any of us,” Astrid said, her voice calm but firm. “If we don’t use what she knows, we’re walking into this blind.”

“And Andros?” a younger Alpha growled. “He betrayed his own family. He murdered his father. What makes you think he won’t turn on us the second he sees an opportunity?”

The accusations ignited a flurry of voices, anger and fear clashing in the room. I clenched my fists, my wolf snarling at the chaos.

“They have no right to question us!” I growled, stepping forward. “We’ve sacrificed too much already to let them tear us apart now!”

Nova placed a hand on my arm, her touch grounding me. “Drystan,” she said softly. “We need them united, not divided.”

I exhaled sharply, trying to rein in my anger. But as my gaze landed on Andros, lounging in his seat with that infuriating smirk, my fury threatened to boil over.

Rowena’s voice, calm and steady, silenced the room. “You’re right to mistrust me,” she said, meeting the eyes of every Alpha in the room. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of. But my mistakes don’t change the truth. If the Rogue King wins, none of this will matter. Your Packs, your families, your bonds—they’ll all be gone.”

“And we’re just supposed to take your word for it?” the younger Alpha shot back.

“No,” Rowena replied, her gaze unflinching. “You’re supposed to act because the risk of doing nothing is too great.”

Killian spoke then, his voice carrying the weight of his authority. “Whether we like it or not, Rowena and Andros are the only ones who can give us the edge we need. If anyone has a better plan, speak now.”

Silence fell over the room.

Later, as the council dispersed, I lingered near the entrance, my eyes fixed on Andros. He noticed and approached, his movements unhurried.

“You’ve got something to say, Drystan?” he asked, his tone almost mocking.

I stepped closer, my claws itching to extend. “You don’t belong here. You think we’ve forgotten what you did?”

“I don’t expect you to forget,” he replied, his expression serious for the first time. “But if you don’t want me here, then do something about it. Otherwise, step aside and let me do what I came here to do.”

My wolf snarled, but before I could respond, Nova’s voice cut through the tension.

“Drystan,” she said sharply. “Leave it.”

Astrid found me later, her expression troubled.

“You don’t trust him,” she said.

“You should be resting,” I said, sitting beside her.

She gave me a faint smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Resting won’t change anything.”

I reached out, placing a hand over hers. “We’ll stop him, Nova. The Rogue King won’t win.”

Her jaw tightened, and she looked away. “What if we’re wrong, Drystan? What if everything we’re doing… what if it’s not enough?”

“It will be,” I said firmly, though my own doubts lingered.

She exhaled slowly, leaning her head against my shoulder. “Liora would’ve known what to do.”

“She always did,” I murmured.

For a moment, we sat in silence, the weight of our grief and determination binding us together.

By dawn, the Packs were ready to move. Drystan and Nova would lead a small group to scout the Rogue King’s forces, while Killian and Astrid remained behind to fortify the camp and plan their next move.

Before leaving, I approached Killian, my expression grim. “If Andros so much as breathes wrong while I’m gone, deal with him.”

Killian nodded. “I will.”

I turned to Astrid, her gaze steady as she met mine. “Keep them safe,” I said quietly.

“I will,” she replied, her voice filled with quiet strength.

As we set off into the forest, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were walking into something far bigger than any of us realized. The shadows felt alive, watching, waiting.

And somewhere in the distance, the Rogue King was preparing for war.