Ch. 306..310: Reclaiming My Broken Luna Chapter 306-310
Chapter 306: Unfairness
Astrid's
POV
I gently shut the door to Ryker's bedroom, the soft click echoing in the silence of the hallway.
My heart felt heavy, an ache deep in my chest that I couldn't quite shake. I paused for a moment, resting my forehead against the door, and closed my eyes.
It was overwhelming - seeing him there, knowing he was mine, and yet feeling like I was still a world away from him.
Just as I took a step to leave, I heard my name. "Astrid."
My body stiffened, and I bit my lower lip, wiping away the stray tears that clung to my cheeks.
I straightened up, my face smoothing into a mask of indifference as I slowly turned around to face him. Killian stood a few feet away, his eyes soft and unreadable, but I could sense his caution.
I forced myself to meet his gaze without flinching, willing my voice to stay steady.
"What is it?" I asked, my tone even but detached.
He stepped closer, his expression gentle, his voice a low murmur as he spoke. "The pack is secure now. The rogues have been dealt with." His tone was calm, meant to lift the weight I carried, as if he sensed the turmoil within me.
It had been my responsibility to take a final check around the borders as the pack's general, to ensure everyone's safety.
But how could I have focused on my duties when the son I thought I had lost forever was alive and right here, under this very roof?
The moment I found out the truth, everything else slipped from my mind, and I ran straight to Ryker's room, forgetting everything else.
"Thank you for handling it," I replied, my voice barely a whisper.
Killian gave a soft nod. "The preparations we made... they worked well. No one was harmed."
I nodded, but my gaze drifted away from him. "Good," I murmured.
I knew I should have felt relief, maybe even pride that our planning had succeeded, that the pack was
safe. But all I felt was a bone-deep exhaustion-both physical and emotional. "That's... good."
Killian's eyes stayed on me, his gaze lingering like he wanted to say more, to bridge the distance between us. "It's been a long day. You should rest.
"What about the guests?" I asked, my voice steadying.
"Some of them were worried the rogues might return, so they decided to head back to their packs. Others have chosen to stay, but everyone is in their rooms now." he paused.
"You don't need to worry; Damien and I have taken care of everything," he said, his tone reassuring.
I swallowed hard, his words settling uneasily in my mind. There were still so many questions I had for Damien, especially about Ryker.
As if sensing my thoughts, Killian added, "I spoke with Damien. He promised to explain everything to us tomorrow."
A heaviness settled over me, the reassurance doing little to ease my mind. "And what about Drystan? Don't you think he deserves to be held accountable for what he's done?" I stared into his eyes as I questioned him.
I know he and Damien were best friends and that Damien was also left with no choice but to help Giselle in order to protect his daughter, but I want to know if Killian really thinks that Damien deserved no punishment for the part he had
Lov
played in ruining our lives,
"If it weren't for him, Giselle wouldn't have succeeded in all her lies. He had three years to tell us the truth,
and he never did. If we hadn't uncovered it today, he would have kept it from us forever."
The anger I felt was barely contained, my voice tinged with bitterness as I spoke.
Killian's expression shifted, the softness in his eyes giving way to a hardened edge.
His jaw tightened as he locked eyes with me, and there was a flicker of intensity I hadn't expected.
"I understand what you're saying, Astrid," he said, his voice rough with frustration.
"And I agree with you. I think he deserves to be punished. Damien's betrayal is unforgivable. No matter his reasons, he's not innocent." he paused.
"It's hard for me, too, to accept that someone I've treated as a brother kept something this big from me."
A jolt of surprise shot through me. I hadn't expected him to align so closely with my anger.
I thought that is loyalty to Damien would cloud his judgment. But hearing his words now, the rawness in
his voice, I realized that he shared my sense of betrayal more deeply than I'd imagined.
My eyes lowered upon hearing his response and then he sighed, his shoulders sagging as he continued.
"Punishing him further won't change what's happened, and it won't heal the wounds we have. He's already carrying the weight of his choices and it's tearing him apart. For now, that's enough. He has to live with the consequences of his actions, and that's not an easy burden to bear."
My gaze snapped up at him when I heard him say it was enough because it wasn't for me. However, I fell speechless when I saw his conflicted expression mirroring mine. He too believes it wasn't enough.
"Drystan is prepared to cooperate
with us. He's willing to reveal the full
truth and testify against Giselle to
ensure she faces the consequences she deserves. As long as he's cooperating, I can't hold him fully
accountable for his actions
I felt my hands tense at my sides as a wave of unfairness washed over me. It felt unfair that after everything Drystan had done, he was going to walk away without facing the consequences. It felt wrong like an injustice that cut deep into my core.
But as I looked at Killian, I knew it wasn't easy for him either. This wasn't just about loyalty, it was about making better choices even though it meant letting Drystan off the hook.
"There's something else I need to discuss with you," Killian said, breaking the silence that had settled between us. His voice was low, and I noticed how his expression shifted-grave, serious, like he was about to deliver something heavy.
Chapter 307: Pretense
Astrid's POV
"What is it?" I asked, feeling a knot tighten in my stomach as I braced myself.
Killian drew in a deep breath, his eyes locking onto mine. "It's about Ryker. I don't think we should tell him the truth yet."
I frowned, a sinking feeling settling in my chest. "Why not?"
His gaze softened, but his voice remained firm. "You know Ryker's condition-he's not like other children, Astrid. We don't know how he'll react to this."
"Are you asking me to wait again?" I said, my voice trembling. "I've already waited three years, Killian." My lips quivered as I spoke, the frustration and longing I'd held onto for so long threatening to spill over. Killian's expression became grave, his eyes filled with genuine concern. "Astrid, you haven't seen how Ryker responds when even the smallest change disrupts his routine. It overwhelms him. Sometimes, it takes hours - sometimes an entire day - just to calm him down."
He paused, his voice gentling but carrying the weight of his words. "Now imagine what would happen if we told him that everything he's believed about his life, about his mother, wasn't true. That the woman he's trusted and loved isn't really his mother. It would be too much for him to handle right now. It could shatter his sense of security."
My heart clenched as his words sank in. I knew he was right. As much as I longed for Ryker to know the truth, I also understood how fragile his world was.
I took a deep breath, feeling the familiar weight of disappointment settle over me, pressing down like a stone.
Killian's voice was soft but steady. "Astrid, please... just give it more time. I know it's hard, but we need to be sure Ryker is ready. We can't risk turning his world upside down before he's prepared for it. Let's not put him in a difficult situation."
His words were like a knife twisting in my chest. I had already waited so long, now that we could finally reunite again, I still couldn't tell Ryker the truth. The thought of waiting even longer felt unbearable.
I swallowed, trying to steady the emotions rising in my throat. "How much more time?" I whispered, my voice barely audible. "How long do I have to keep pretending that he's not mine?"
Killian's gaze was sympathetic, and he reached out as if to comfort me, but I took a small step back, not wanting the touch to soften the ache I felt.
"I can't say for certain," he admitted. "We just have to wait until he grows fond you. It wouldn't be long, you already managed to win his heart in a short time you've been with him.
I felt the tears sting the corners of my eyes, but I forced myself to hold them back. "I've waited for so long, Killian," I said, my voice cracking. "It feels like every day I lose more of him... more of the chance to be his mother."
He nodded, his expression filled with a mix of understanding and regret. "I know. But you're not losing him, Astrid. You're doing this to protect him, to make sure that when he does know the truth, he's in a place where he can accept it."
I bit down on my lip, feeling the frustration and sadness well up inside me. I wanted to argue, to tell him that I couldn't stand the thought of waiting another day.
But deep down, I knew he was right. And that knowledge, as much as it grounded me, also broke me.
So, I simply nodded, letting out a shaky breath. "Okay," I murmured. "I'll wait... for the meantime, we'll use the time to get to know each other better."
Killian's eyes softened, and for a moment, the silence between us felt heavy, filled with all the things left unsaid.
We both knew the weight of the choice we were making, the fragility of the situation, and how much was at stake.
But we also knew that this was our chance - a chance to build the bridge we needed to cross, one small step at a time.
As I stood there, I felt a bittersweet realization settle over me. I didn't know my own son. Not really.
I knew the boy I had seen from afar, the one who had lived his life believing Giselle was his mother, but I didn't know his favorite book or what made him laugh.
I didn't know what calmed him when
he was upset or how he liked to spend his mornings. And he didn't know me either - I was just another face, another presence he hadn't learned to trust yet.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper.
Although I told him that I'm okay, that I would do things the way he wanted, he still felt the pain radiating from me.
I forced a bitter smile. "I'm fine."
It was a lie, and we both knew it. But I didn't want to unravel here, not in front of him.
I didn't want him to see the mess of emotions swirling inside me - the longing, the fear, the guilt. I wasn't ready to share that part of myself especially not with the man who had caused so much of this pain
"Astrid..." he began, taking another step closer.
"No," I interrupted, holding up a hand to stop him. "I don't need sympathy or comfort, Killian." I held his gaze, my eyes hard. "I just need time."
He hesitated, his eyes searching
mine. For a moment, I thought he might push, insist on staying and talking things through, but he only nodded, accepting the distance l placed between us.
"I understand," he finally said, his voice quiet, resigned. "But if you need anything... I'm here."
I wanted to scoff at that, to remind him how many times he wasn't there when I needed him most.
But the words stuck in my throat, and all I could manage was a small nod. I turned away, taking a deep breath to steady myself as I walked down the hallway.
As I put more distance between us, I felt the familiar sense of emptiness creep in.
Chapter 308: Pancakes
Astrid's POV
The next day, I woke up early, determined to make the most of the time I had with Ryker.
If I couldn't tell him the truth yet, I'd focus on slowly building our relationship, step by careful step. Patience would be key, and I was willing to take it slow, to earn his trust.
I figured I'd start with breakfast - something simple but thoughtful, something he might enjoy.
It felt like a small gesture, but I hoped it could be the first step towards bridging the gap between us.
And as I stood in the kitchen, it hit me - this would be the first time I'd ever cooked breakfast for my son.
I wanted it to be special, something that showed how much I cared. But as I scanned the kitchen, my
mind raced with uncertainty. Pancakes? Eggs? Maybe toast with fruit on the side?
Every option seemed too simple, too ordinary for a moment that felt so significant.
I caught myself overthinking every little detail. What if he didn't like it? What if I got it wrong? I wanted so badly for him to enjoy it, to see that I was trying.
I started pacing, debating with myself on what would be the perfect meal.
Just then, the sound of footsteps pulled me from my thoughts. I turned to see Beta Ryder entering the kitchen, looking surprised to find me there so early.
He was only wearing a loose shirt and jeans, his hair still a little messy from sleep as he made his way over to the counter to grab a drink.
"Astrid, I didn't expect to see you up this early," he said, a hint of curiosity in his eyes.
I offered a small smile, feeling a bit relieved to see him.
"Good morning, Ryder. I'm... just trying to make breakfast for Ryker." I hesitated for a moment before admitting, "I wanted to make something he likes, but I don't know what his favorite breakfast is."
Ryder's expression softened, and he nodded thoughtfully. "Well, you're in luck. Ryker loves pancakes. But not just any kind he's particular about them."
I perked up, grateful for the information. "Particular? How so?"
"He likes them crispy at the edges but fluffy in the middle. And he always has a bowl of fruit with it. But," Ryder added, "the fruit has to be just right-not too hard, not too soft. If it's not the way he likes it, he won't eat it."
I felt a mix of relief and anxiety. At least now I knew what he liked, but hearing the specifics made me realize just how much I needed to get it right.
"Thank you, Ryder," I said, my voice sincere. "I appreciate you telling me."
He smiled, a reassuring look on his face. "No problem. And don't worry you've got this." With that, he gave me an encouraging nod before leaving the kitchen.
I stood there for a moment, taking a deep breath.
I felt a surge of determination as I stood in the kitchen. If making breakfast exactly how he liked it could help him feel comfortable around me, then I was going to get it right.
I stood over the stove, carefully pouring the batter into the pan, watching as the bubbles formed and the edges started to brown.
The kitchen quickly became a mess - a chaotic scene of flour dusted across the counter, mixing bowls stacked high, and discarded utensils everywhere.
At the side, I had a mountain of pancakes piled up from countless trial and error - some burnt to a crisp, others undercooked and pale.
A few were cooked alright, but none of them had the perfect crispy edges and fluffy center that Ryder said Ryker liked.
Frustration bubbled up as I tried
again and again, flipping the pancakes at different times, adjusting the heat, and pouring different amounts of batter until,
finally, I got it right.
The edges crisped up just the way I wanted, and the center was light and airy. I set it aside with a sigh of relief, grateful I hadn't given up.
Next came the fruit. I had several bowls scattered across the counter, each filled with different kinds - some too firm, others too soft.
I tested each piece, feeling the texture beneath my fingers, and carefully selected only the ones that felt just right.
It took longer than I expected, the
counter becoming crowded with et
discarded fruits and half-filled bowls as I tried to find the perfect balance for Ryker.
When I finally had enough, I arranged them neatly in a small bowl, the colors vibrant and fresh, just as I hoped he would like.
By the time I was done, the kitchen was a wreck, and I felt the exhaustion creeping in.
But when I looked at the neatly plated pancakes and the perfectly handpicked fruit, I felt a small sense of accomplishment.
I glanced at the clock and realized how fortunate I was to have woken up so early — any later, and I wouldn't have finished in time.
It was a mess, but it was worth it. This breakfast was for my son, and I had done everything I could to make it special.
With everything ready, I carried the plate and bowl to the dining area. I spotted him at the table, already lost in his coloring.
My heart fluttered with nerves, but forced myself to take a steadying breath placed the plate and bowl in front of him, trying to keep my voice calm and light.
"Good morning, Ryker," I said softly. "I made breakfast for you just how you like it."
He glanced up at me, his eyes meeting mine for a brief moment before flicking back down to his drawing.
I felt a knot of anxiety form in my chest, my hands fidgeting as I waited for his reaction. Had I done enough? Did I get it right?
Ryker set his crayon down and reached for the plate. I watched with bated breath as he took a bite of the pancake.
Every muscle in my body tensed, waiting for a sign - any sign that I had gotten it wrong.
But when he continued eating, his expression neutral and untroubled, a wave of relief washed over me.
It was such a small victory, but it felt monumental — a tiny step forward.
Chapter 309: Where is Mother?
Astrid's
POV
The nanny's eyes widened as she watched Ryker eat, and I could see the surprise clearly written on her face.
She leaned forward, her gaze shifting from Ryker to me, as if she couldn't quite believe what she was seeing.
"I... I can't believe it," she whispered, her voice tinged with awe. "You actually got it right."
I offered her a tentative smile, my eyes still focused on Ryker. "I just wanted to make sure he had something he liked," I said softly. "I know how particular he is.'
She shook her head, a look of wonder crossing her features. "Particular doesn't even begin to cover it," she replied with a gentle laugh.
"It's almost impossible to get it right with him on the first try. It took me months just to figure out his preferences.
Even now, I still make mistakes before I manage to cook the right pancake for him.
I was so frustrated, I nearly quit my job as his nanny because of it." She paused, her eyes softening as they met mine. "But you did it."
Her compliment warmed me, and for a moment, I felt a sense of accomplishment.
It wasn't just about getting the food right; it was about showing that I cared, that I was trying.
I knew it was my love and determination that drove me to accomplish all this.
Now, I finally had an opportunity to connect with her - someone who truly knew him, someone who could answer the questions I had been holding onto for so long.
If anyone knew Ryker best, it was her. I wanted to understand everything—his likes, his routines, and most importantly, how he was like growing up.
And hopefully, she could tell me what kind of mother Giselle had been to him.
"About Ryker, "I began, my voice tinged with the urgency of my curiosity. But before I could finish, Killian entered the room.
His presence was like a gust of wind, sharp and sudden. The nanny immediately stood, her head dipping in respect.
I straightened, my questions fading to the background as my gaze locked onto his.
Killian's eyes went straight to the plate in front of Ryker. He paused, his expression shifting from its usual guarded look to something closer to curiosity.
He stepped closer, and I could feel the tension build in the room as he studied the meal I had prepared. Ryker, unfazed by the new presence, continued eating as if nothing had changed.
Killian's eyes moved from the food to me, and for a brief moment, I caught a glimmer of something in his eyes- perhaps surprise, perhaps a hint of acknowledgment for my effort.
"You made this for him?" he asked, his tone still guarded, but there was a softness to it that I rarely heard.
I nodded. "I wanted to make sure he had something he liked. Ryder told me how particular he is."
For just a second, his expression
softened, and it felt like a small
victory "it's... impressive. For
Ryker
to eat his food, you have to reach a
certain level of perfection,"
A sense of triumph spread through me. He had noticed my effort, and, for once, it wasn't met with indifference.
I was about to respond when Ryker, sitting quietly in his chair, reached for a small notepad.
His brow furrowed as he scribbled something down, and then he held it up for us to see.
When I read the words, my breath caught in my throat: "Where is my mother?"
The nanny's breath hitched beside me, and her eyes darted to Killian, seeking his reaction.
For a moment, the room felt frozen, the question hanging heavy in the air.
I could feel my pulse quicken as my eyes flicked between Ryker's innocent, expectant gaze and Killian's face, which had gone rigid.
Killian's jaw tightened, the muscles in his neck straining as he absorbed Ryker's question.
The softness I had glimpsed in his eyes moments ago vanished, replaced by a familiar coldness.
He opened his mouth, hesitated, and then closed it again, as if weighing every word.
"Ryker," he said finally, his voice steady but laced with an edge of discomfort, "Ryker, just finish your meal first."
But Ryker didn't look away; his small, clear eyes remained locked onto Killian's face, waiting.
He held the notepad tighter, as if hoping that his question could somehow break through the silence that had stretched between them for so long.
I felt an ache in my chest, a longing to reach out and comfort him. His question, so simple yet so loaded, pulled at the very emotions I had been trying to keep in check
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"Your mom," I paused, as all eyes turned to me. "Your mom is..."
Oh how badly I wanted to tell him that his mother is me, standing right in front of me him, but I was reminded by Killian's words last night.
"Your mom is not here right now," I finally spoke, not letting my intrusive thoughts get the best of me.
"She... she had something to take care of that's why she had to leave," I felt bad for lying to him, but I had too.
I know it wouldn't sit right with him if I tell him that his mother is locked in the dungeons right now. Ryker's eyes lingered on me, as if willing me to continue, to explain where his mother really is.
My answer only seemed to left him with so many questions. I could
the confusion but he remaine
silent, his small hands clutching the notepad tighter.
The weight of my lie hung heavy between us, and guilt clawed at me.
I knew this wasn't fair to him, but the truth was too complicated, too harsh for a child his age to comprehend.
Chapter 310: Family Picture
Killian stepped forward, his presence a steadying force in the room. "Hey, buddy," he said, his voice unusually soft, almost gentle. "I know yesterday didn't go the way we planned."
Ryker's eyes shifted to him, his expression still clouded.
Killian knelt down beside him, making sure he was at Ryker's eye level. "It was supposed to be a special day for you - your birthday - but things got a little... messy. And I'm really sorry about that."
Ryker tilted his head, his fingers still toying with the edge of his notepad. He was listening, but I could tell he was waiting for more.
Killian's face softened, and for a moment, the guarded mask he usually wore was gone. "I promise we'll make it up to you. We'll do whatever you want-just you and me. How does that sound?"
Ryker's eyes lit up, if only for a second. He scribbled quickly on his notepad before holding it up. "Anything?"
Killian's lips curled into a small smile, a glimmer of relief in his eyes. "Anything," he confirmed. "Just name
it."
Ryker paused, considering the offer carefully. His eyes flicked from Killian to me, as if weighing his options.
Slowly, he began to write again, his brow furrowed in concentration. When he held up the notepad, it read: "Can we go to the beach?"
Killian and I leaned in closer, our eyes fixed on the notepad as Ryker held it up. Beneath his simple request of *Can we go to the beach?*, he had sketched something in his careful, childlike strokes. The drawing showed three figures: one adult male, one adult female, and a small child between them, holding their hands. The sun shone brightly in the background, and the waves were drawn in soft, blue lines. For a moment, we both stared at the image, trying to decipher its meaning. Killian's brow furrowed as he glanced from the notepad back to Ryker.
"Is this what you want, buddy?" he asked, his voice gentle. "To go to the beach with me... and your mom?" Ryker's eyes lifted to Killian's, and he shook his head. Then, with a determined expression, he reached out and tugged at my shirt, his grip firm but hesitant, as if making sure I understood what he meant.
I felt my breath catch, and I glanced at Killian, who stared back at me, a mix of surprise and confusion crossing his features.
"Ryker, do you mean..." he started slowly, as if he couldn't quite believe it. "Do you mean you want to go to the beach with Astrid and me?"
Ryker nodded eagerly, his eyes brightening as he let go of my shirt. He pointed to the female figure in his drawing and then to me, as if making it clear who he meant.
The realization hit me like a wave, and I felt my chest tighten with emotion. He wasn't asking for Giselle - he was asking for me.
Happiness and warmth bloomed inside me just because of his simple gesture.
Killian's eyes widened, and for a moment, he looked caught off guard. "Astrid?" he repeated, almost as if testing the idea aloud.
His voice was soft, the surprise evident. "You want Astrid to come with us?"
Ryker nodded again, a small smile forming on his lips. He reached for the notepad once more, adding another detail to the drawing a smalt heart above the three figures, as if sealing the idea.
My throat felt tight, and I had to blink back the emotion welling in my eyes. He still has no idea about the truth and where Giselle really is, but he already feels this way aboutus.
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"How about your mom?" I asked him. "Don't you want her to come with us."
We all fell silent when Ryker's smile disappeared as he shook his head. We all know that Ryker never liked Giselle, but I didn't expect it to be at this extent.
After all, Ryker still thinks that Giselle is his real mother. This made me question what kind of mother Giselle was and how she had been treating me.
I looked up at Killian, and he met my gaze, his expression a mix of surprise, confusion and understanding. He is having the same thoughts as mine.
"Well," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "I guess we're all going to the beach then," he spoke changing the topic again.
I smiled, my voice wavering slightly as I replied, "I'd be honored."
Ryker's grin widened, and he let out a small, excited sound, clearly pleased that his request was being fulfilled.
As he tucked his notepad away, I couldn't help but feel the warmth spread through me.
In that moment, it was as if Ryker had chosen me, in his own quiet way, and I felt my resolve strengthen.
It seems there's nothing to be scared of. Killian was right, I already won Ryker's heart. I just had to give it more time for him to know me and I to know him.
For him, I would give everything I had to make sure he felt loved, protected, and safe.
Killian stood up, with an excited look on his face. It was warm, and perhaps even grateful.
"Let's get ready, then," he said, his tone lighter than it had been in a long time. "The beach is waiting." And as Ryker held my hand, a sense of hope bloomed within me - maybe this was the beginning of something new, something we could build together, one day at a time.