Reclaiming My Broken Luna (Astrid and Killian) novel Chapter 390

Killian’s POV

The camp was a flurry of activity, every wolf preparing for what could be our last stand.

Weapons were sharpened, armor repaired, and scouts came and went with grim updates on the Rogue King’s movements.

I stood near the center, watching the warriors train in the clearing.

Their strikes were fast, their stances solid, but the tension in the air was unmistakable.

Everyone knew what was coming, and the weight of it was crushing.

Astrid approached, her expression as resolute as ever, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of exhaustion. “Drystan and Nova haven’t sent word yet,” she said quietly.

“They will,” I replied, my voice firm. “They know what’s at stake.”

Astrid’s gaze flicked toward the edge of the camp, where Andros was being guarded by two warriors.

He sat on a fallen log, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp, scanning the camp as if calculating his next move.

“I don’t trust him,” Astrid said, her voice low.

“Neither do I,” I admitted. “But right now, he’s a necessary evil.”

Rowena joined us moments later, her movements slower than they once were but still carrying a regal air.

Her silver hair was pulled back, and her piercing eyes swept over the camp.

“You’ve done well,” she said, nodding toward the warriors. “But it won’t be enough.”

I turned to her, my patience thinning. “If you’ve got something useful to say, now’s the time.”

She smirked faintly. “You need more than brute force to win this. The Rogue King doesn’t just rely on numbers—he thrives on chaos. If your Packs aren’t united when you face him, you’ll lose before the first strike.”

Astrid stepped closer, her tone sharp. “And how do you suggest we unite them? You’ve done more than anyone to tear them apart.”

Rowena’s gaze softened, just slightly. “I made mistakes, yes. But I’ve also learned from them. You need to remind the Packs of what they’re fighting for—what they’re protecting. Unity isn’t built on fear; it’s built on trust and loyalty.”

Her words, surprisingly, struck a chord.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, a scout burst into the camp, his fur matted with sweat and blood.

“Alpha Killian,” he gasped, bowing his head. “Drystan and Nova… they’ve been spotted. They’re holding position near the Rogue King’s camp, but they need reinforcements.”

I nodded sharply. “Gather the warriors. We leave in an hour.”

The scout hesitated. “There’s more. The Rogue King is rallying his forces. They’ve built barricades around the camp, and it looks like they’re preparing for a ritual with the Amulet.”

Astrid stiffened beside me. “A ritual? What kind?”

Andros smirked faintly. “Fair enough.”

The march to the Rogue King’s camp was eerily quiet, the forest around us holding its breath.

By the time we reached Drystan and Nova’s position, the tension was almost unbearable.

Drystan stepped out from the shadows, his expression grim. “They’ve fortified the camp more than we expected,” he said. “And the Amulet… it’s glowing brighter than before. Whatever they’re doing, they’re close to finishing it.”

Nova joined us, her eyes flicking toward Andros. “You brought him?”

“He’s a tool,” I said. “Nothing more.”

Andros gave her a wry smile. “Good to see you too, Nova.”

The group gathered to plan the attack, the stakes clear.

Drystan would lead a small team to sabotage the barricades while the main force prepared for a frontal assault.

Andros spoke up, his tone surprisingly serious. “The Rogue King is expecting you to come in with brute force. But his focus is on the Amulet. If you can distract him long enough, I can get close and disrupt the ritual.”

“You expect us to trust you with that?” Drystan growled.

Andros met his gaze steadily. “I don’t care if you trust me. But if you want to stop him, you’ll need me to do it.”