Ch. 426..430: Reclaiming My Broken Luna Chapter 426-430
Chapter 426: Fractured Bonds
Astrid's POV
Long shadows cast down on me as I walked through the halls. Every step felt heavier than the last, the air thick with tension.
I had spent the last hour sitting by Elara and Ryker's beds, watching their peaceful faces, willing my fears to fade away. But they hadn't.
I had always trusted my instincts, and right now, they were screaming at me. Something was wrong.
Killian had tried to reassure me, promising that we had taken every precaution, that the guards stationed around our children were the best of the best. But my gut told me otherwise.
Ardan was methodical. He didn't make reckless moves. If he had stayed silent for this long, it was because he was waiting for the perfect opportunity.
I wasn't about to let him take it.
I turned a corner and found Killian waiting for me outside the war room, his golden eyes watching me closely. He had been expecting me.
"You didn't rest," he said simply.
"Neither did you," I countered, folding my arms across my chest.
He exhaled, running a hand through his dark hair. "Astrid, you have to stop torturing yourself. The guards are on high alert. Ryder is tracking rogue movements. We're not letting anything happen to them."
"I know," I admitted. "But something doesn't feel right, Killian. The rogues haven't made a move in days. It's not normal."
Killian nodded, his gaze darkening. "I don't like it either. Ryder said there were faint rogue scents near the eastern border, but no signs of an attack."
"A distraction," I murmured.
Killian's brows furrowed. "You think Ardan is keeping our attention there while he moves somewhere else?"
I nodded, my mind racing. "It's what I would do. Keep the strongest fighters distracted, make them chase shadows, and strike where it hurts the most."
Killian's grip on the war table tightened. "Then where is he really planning to strike?"
I didn't answer immediately. My mind was already piecing the puzzle together, going through everything Cedric had revealed, everything Ardan had done before.
Then it clicked.
“The Packhouse," I whispered, my stomach twisting.
Killian stiffened. "Astrid-"
"Think about it," I cut him off, turning to face him fully. "His end goal isn't just to win battles, Killian.
He wants to break us. He wants to destroy the system. And what better way to do that than to show the Alphas that we can't even protect our own?"
Killian's jaw clenched, his golden eyes flashing with rage. "He's coming for them."
I nodded, my heart pounding. "Elara and Ryker aren't just our children. They carry my blood, Killian. They are his key to restoring the forsaken amulet. He's not after us-he's after them."
Killian didn't hesitate. He turned sharply toward the door. "Ryder."
Ryder was already waiting outside, his expression grim. "Alpha."
"Reinforce the Packhouse," Killian ordered, his voice sharp and unwavering. "Double the guards around my children. No one gets in or out unless Astrid or I say so."
Ryder nodded immediately. "Understood."
I reached out, gripping Killian's arm. "I want warriors stationed inside their room. Not just outside. If Ardan has someone working for him on the inside, we need to be prepared for anything."
Killian's jaw tightened, but he nodded. "Done."
Ryder left to carry out the orders, and I turned to Killian. "I'm staying with them tonight."
He didn't argue. He simply nodded and took my hand, squeezing it tightly. "I'll be right outside."
The Packhouse was quiet. Too quiet.
The kind of silence that settled right before chaos struck.
Something still felt wrong.
I turned the corner, my steps instinctively light, my body thrumming with
awareness as I made my way toward my children's room.
My fingers brushed the dagger at my waist which is laced with wolfsbane, a
weapon I prepared for our protection.
My heart pounding in time with my growing paranoia.
Killian had told me to rest.
But how could I?
The guards stationed at the door nodded as I approached, their shoulders stiff with discipline.
They were some of our best warriors, hand-picked by Killian himself. They had sworn their loyalty, their lives, to protecting this Pack.
To protecting my children.
But even then, I couldn't shake the feeling clawing at the back of my mind.
I stepped inside the room, the air warm and thick with the scent of lavender and soft candle wax.
The moonlight poured through the open window, spilling across Elara and Ryker's sleeping forms.
My heart clenched.
Elara lay curled on her side, her tiny hand clutching the stuffed wolf she never slept without.
Her dark lashes fluttered against her cheeks, her small chest rising and falling in the slow, steady rhythm of sleep.
Ryker, ever the protector, slept on his back, one arm thrown out as if ready to shield his sister at a moment's notice.
Even in his sleep, there was tension in his young body, his brow furrowed slightly as if his instincts warned
him of danger before he even woke.
My stomach twisted.
This wasn't how they should grow up-sleeping under constant watch,
warriors standing guard outside:
their doors, their lives dictated by the threats of men like Ardan.
They were supposed to be safe.
I sank down onto the chair beside their beds, my fingers gripping the armrests so
tightly my knuckles turned white.
"Luna?"
I turned sharply, my eyes locking onto the warrior stationed by the window. His
voice was quiet, hesitant, but his stance was firm.
"The perimeters are secured," he continued, his expression unreadable. "Nothing unusual."
I nodded slowly, my gaze shifting back to my children.
That was the problem.
Nothing was unusual.
Ardan didn't operate in chaos-he
thrived in silence. In patience. In waiting for the exact moment his
enemies believed they had won before he struck the final
A chill swept through me.
He's waiting for something.
blow.
I exhaled, forcing the panic down, smoothing my fingers over the dagger strapped
to my thigh. If he was waiting, then so was I.
I would be ready.
Chapter 427: Weight of Failure
Astrid's POV
The hour was unnervingly still-the kind of stillness that didn't promise peace but
danger.
Even the crickets had silenced their symphony, leaving the world suspended in an uneasy pause.
Fresh guards had taken their positions outside Elara and Ryker's room, their heavy boots scuffing the floor before settling into still vigilance.
Inside, I sat unmoving, my nails absently scraping patterns into the worn armrest of the chair.
Every creak of the house, every gust of wind, felt like a warning. My wolf stirred, pacing just beneath the surface, uneasy.
Killian had checked on me earlier. He'd lingered in the doorway, his golden eyes searching mine, his mouth pressed into a grim line.
He didn't speak, didn't push me to leave. He didn't need to. He knew I wouldn't.
I wasn't leaving my children tonight.
The breeze through the open window caught the flame of a candle, snuffing it out in a final flicker.
Shadows stretched long across the room. I stood, my movements deliberate and quiet, and crossed to the window. The cold night air carried with it the faint scent of pine and something else-
something sharper.
I reached for the latch, and that's when it hit me.
A ripple of awareness prickled down my spine.
Something was wrong.
My wolf stilled, ears metaphorically pricking, senses sharpening.
The hallway torches sputtered once, their flames bending unnaturally-and then extinguished as if the darkness itself had swallowed them.
I tensed. My hand dropped instinctively to the dagger at my waist.
A faint noise-the crack of glass breaking-pierced the quiet. The acrid sting of
wolfsbane hit me next, sharp and unmistakable.
It filled the air like a poison cloud, heavy and suffocating.
"Wolfsbane!" the guard outside choked, his voice strangled before being silenced
entirely. The thud of his body hitting the floor echoed ominously.
"Elara, Ryker!" My voice cut through the oppressive quiet, sharp and commanding.
"Get up! Now!" I screamed, startling them from their deep sleep.
Before I could reach them, shadows spilled into the room like water seeping through cracks. Rogues-silent, swift, and coordinated.
Their eyes gleamed in the faint light, and their movements betrayed a deadly precision.
This wasn't some desperate attack. This was calculated.
One lunged for me, a blur of snarling teeth and flashing steel. My dagger met him halfway, carving a line through his ribs.
He stumbled, but another was already there to replace him. They kept coming, a relentless tide.
"Elara!" Ryker's small voice, high and trembling, snapped me back to the bed. A hooded figure loomed near her, their hand reaching.
"No!" The word ripped from my throat, raw and feral, as I threw myself toward them.
My dagger struck deep into the figure's shoulder, but even as they faltered, another rogue grabbed me from behind, their weight nearly taking me down.
I twisted violently, the blade in my hand slicing blindly until I broke free. My heart
thundered, my lungs burned, but the rogues didn't stop.
"Elara, run!" I shouted, my voice cracking as desperation clawed at me.
But she didn't move.
She stood frozen, her wide eyes shimmering with tears, locked on me as the chaos unfolded.
Another rogue surged toward her. I lunged, my blade finding its mark, but pain exploded in my back before I could turn.
The bite of steel, laced with wolfsbane, seared through my flesh. My knees buckled. My vision blurred, and the world around me warped in slow motion. "Mommy!"
Elara's scream sliced through the fog of pain clouding my mind.
Through the haze, I saw him-the hooded rogue advancing toward her with deadly purpose. But before he could reach her, Ryker stepped in, his small frame braced in defiance, shielding his sister with everything he had.
"Leave her alone!" Ryker shouted, his voice trembling but resolute.
His face, usually full of childhood innocence, was now contorted in determination, his expression a mirror of his father's.
Despite the terror gripping the room, despite the overwhelming size and strength of the rogue before him, Ryker didn't back down.
His little hands clutched a dagger, both fists tightening around the hilt
as he lifted it in front of him liket
shield. Too small. Too fragile. But fearless.
"I won't let you have my sister," he said, his voice firm, his stance unwavering.
A flicker of amusement crossed the rogue's face-mocking, cruel. As if this was
nothing more than a game. As if my son was nothing more than an inconvenience.
Then, without hesitation, the rogue moved.
Fast. Brutal. Unforgiving.
A vicious backhand struck Ryker with bone crushing force, his small body sent hurtling through the air like a ragdoll. The sound of his impact against the stone wall
-a sickening crack-shattered the air.
Ryker crumpled to the ground. Motionless.
"No!" My scream was raw, ripping from my throat as I struggled against my failing
body.
My son. My baby.
I tried to rise, but my limbs betrayed me, heavy and sluggish from the poison searing through my veins.
The agony of my wound burned like wildfire, every movement a fresh wave of torment.
I crawled, dragging myself inch by inch across the blood-slicked floor toward him.
"Ryker!" I gasped, my vision blurring. He wasn't moving.
Tears stung my eyes. Breathe, baby. Please breathe.
Elara screamed again, her small fists pounding against her captor's arms as he lifted her effortlessly Her panic-stricken eyes locked onto mine, desperate and terrified
"Mommy!" She kicked, struggled, fought-but it wasn't enough.
I tried. I tried.
But I could only watch. Helpless. Powerless. Useless.
The rogue holding her stepped toward the window, his movements swift and sure.
A trained extraction. A planned abduction.
"No," I choked out, my body betraying me, my strength slipping away.
They were taking her.
They were taking my baby.
I reached out, my fingers scraping against the floor, nails clawing at nothing. The room spun. My breaths came in shallow gasps.
The rogue's eyes met mine, cold and resolute. In one fluid motion, he turned and leaped through the open window, taking her with him.
"Elara!" I lunged, my fingers brushing the empty air where she had been. The sound of her scream-the pure, unfiltered terror-tore through me.
Then there was nothing.
The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the ragged sound of my own breathing.
The rogue disappeared into the night.
With her.
A violent sob tore through me, my body finally collapsing beside Ryker's limp
form.
My trembling hands reached for him, cupping his bruised face. His little chest rose
and fell-barely.
My vision darkened at the edges.
There was no one left to help us.
No guards.
No Killian.
My body collapsed, the wolfsbane's poison spreading like fire through my veins.
My vision tunneled, darkness encroaching, and I could do nothing but let it take
me.
Chapter 428: Mother’s Desperation
Astrid's POV
The world felt distant, muffled by the thick fog of unconsciousness.
My body was heavy, weighed down by pain and exhaustion, yet my mind clawed for clarity, for awareness.
Then, all at once, reality came crashing down.
Elara.
My breath hitched, my body jolting as I forced my eyes open. A sharp pain seared through my back, but I ignored it, my heart hammering against my ribs.
My surroundings swam into focus-the soft glow of candlelight flickering against the stone walls, the scent of herbs lingering in the air.
I was in my room.
Someone had carried me here.
A shadow shifted beside me, and my gaze landed on Killian.
He sat in a chair beside the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, his golden eyes dark with something raw and unguarded.
His face was drawn, his usual sharp confidence buried beneath an overwhelming weight.
The moment he saw me stir, he straightened. "Astrid," he breathed, relief washing over his features.
But I barely heard him.
"Elara," I gasped, my voice hoarse. The panic surged through me like wildfire, burning through every ache and pain.
I tried to push myself up, but my limbs felt weak, trembling beneath me.
Killian was there in an instant, his hands catching my arms, his grip firm but gentle. "Astrid, stop," he said, his voice low, steady.
I shoved against him, my breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. "Where is she? I have to go "
"Astrid, listen to me." Killian's hands tightened, his golden eyes locking onto mine. "She's gone, but we're tracking them. My men are already on their trail."
Gone.
The word slammed into me, stealing the air from my lungs. My vision blurred, my pulse roaring in my ears. I shook my head violently, my nails digging into Killian's
arms.
"No, no, I have to "
"You can't," he said, his voice strained. "You're injured. The doctors just treated you-you had wolfsbane in your system. If you go after them now, you won't make it past the border."
"I don't care," I choked, a sob breaking past my lips. "She's out there, Killian! Alone! She's scared-what if they hurt her? What if we're too late?"
The thought of Elara in their hands, terrified and crying for me, shattered something inside me.
My body trembled violently as I tried to fight against the hands that held me back.
My arms felt weak, my muscles screaming in protest, but I didn't care.
I needed to get to her.
I had to.
Killian pulled me into his chest, his strong arms wrapping around me tightly,
locking me in place as my sobs wracked through me.
I fought against him at first, my fists weakly pushing against him, but he didn't let
go.
And then, slowly, I broke.
I collapsed against him, my body shaking as the dam inside me burst.
"I promised her," I whispered, my voice cracking. "I promised her she'd always be safe with me."
Killian's arms tightened around me, his jaw pressing against my temple. "She will be safe," he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet, unrelenting conviction. "I swear to you, Astrid, we will get her back."
"But what if—”
"She's strong," Killian interrupted softly, his hands smoothing over my hair. "She's our daughter. And we are going to bring her home."
I gripped his shirt, my breath coming in uneven gasps. "I should have protected
her."
Killian exhaled shakily, his voice breaking slightly. "No, Astrid. This wasn't your fault."
I lifted my head, my eyes burning as I searched his face. "You promised," I whispered, the words barely escaping my lips.
Something in Killian's expression shattered.
His jaw clenched, his golden eyes shining with grief and fury. "I know," he said hoarsely. "And I failed you."
His fingers curled into fists against my back, his body so tense it vibrated with restrained rage. "L swore to protect you. To protect them. And I didn't. I let them take
her"
I shook my head, my vision swimming. “No, Killian, you didn't—"
"I did," he rasped, his voice raw. "I should have been there. I should have stopped them. I should have "
I grabbed his face, forcing him to look at me. "Then we fix it," I whispered fiercely. "We bring her back."
Killian stared at me for a long moment before exhaling sharply, nodding. His hands moved to my shoulders, steadying me as if grounding us both. "We will."
A shuddering breath left my lips, my body still pressed against Killian's as his steady heartbeat pounded beneath my cheek.
His arms around me were firm, unyielding, but even his strength couldn't quiet the storm raging inside me.
Elara was gone.
Taken.
And I hadn't been able to stop it.
I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing down the sob that threatened to break free. I
had to be strong. I had to think. I had to-
Ryker.
My breath caught in my throat, my body stiffening. A fresh wave of panic surged through me, sharp and suffocating.
Where was Ryker?
Why wasn't he here?
I pulled away from Killian, my hands gripping his forearms as I searched his face.
His golden eyes, usually so steady and unwavering, flickered with hesitation.
"Killian," I whispered, my voice trembling. "Where's Ryker?"
Killian inhaled sharply, his fingers twitching against my skin. His jaw tightened,
and I saw it—the hesitation, the flicker of something dark in his gaze.
Guilt.
A sick feeling curled in my stomach.
"Killian,” I repeated, my voice sharper now. "Why isn't he here?"
His grip on me loosened slightly, his eyes darting away for the briefest second
before meeting mine again.
“He.....” Killian exhaled, his voice tight, restrained. "Ryker was injured."
The world tilted.
My heart slammed against my ribs, my fingers going numb.
"What?" I whispered.
Killian's throat bobbed as he
swallowed hard. "The doctors checked on him. They treated his wounds, but..." His voice faltered, his expression pained. "He hasn't woken up yet."
en FindNovel
I couldn't breathe.
A roaring sound filled my ears, drowning out everything else. My mind latched
onto his words, dissecting them, twisting them into something unbearable.
Ryker. Hurt. Unconscious.
I shook my head violently, stumbling to my feet. "Take me to him," I demanded,
my voice unsteady but unrelenting.
"Astrid "
"Take me to him, Killian!" My voice cracked, the desperation clawing at my throat.
Killian stood immediately, his hands reaching for me as if to steady me. "You're still weak, Astrid. You need to rest—"
"Don't you dare tell me to rest," I snapped, my eyes burning with unshed tears.
"My daughter has been taken, and now you're telling me my son is hurt, and I wasn't there for him?" My voice
wavered, and I gritted my teeth, swallowing the sob that threatened to break free.
Killian sighed, running a hand through his hair. He looked exhausted, haunted.
I clenched my fists, willing my shaking legs to carry me forward.
I needed to see my son.
Because if I lost them both-
I wouldn't survive it.
Chapter 429: Family on the Edge
Astrid's POV
The corridors leading to the infirmary felt impossibly long, the walls closing in on me with every step.
My heart pounded, a relentless drumbeat of panic and guilt, louder than my own breath, louder than the torches flickering along the stone walls.
Ryker.
My son.
The thought of him lying there, unconscious and injured, made my stomach twist violently. I should have been there. I should have protected them both.
Killian's hand was firm on the small of my back, steadying me, grounding me, but I barely felt it.
The only thing I could focus on was the door ahead, slightly ajar, spilling faint light into the dim hallway.
I hesitated for only a second before pushing it open.
The moment I saw him, my legs nearly gave out beneath me.
Ryker lay on the bed, his small body dwarfed by the sheets tucked around him.
His face was too pale, his lashes dark against his cheeks, his breathing slow and shallow.
A thick bandage was wrapped around his head, stark against his golden hair.
My vision blurred as I rushed to his side, my hands trembling as they hovered over him before finally, gently, gripping his hand.
His fingers were warm but limp in mine.
Tears burned my eyes, hot and unrelenting.
"Ryker," I whispered, my voice breaking.
He didn't stir.
I tightened my grip on his small hand, my thumb brushing over his knuckles, as if I could will him to wake up, to open those sharp, intelligent eyes and tell me he was okay.
But he didn't move.
A broken sound escaped my throat, and my shoulders shook.
"I wasn't there," I whispered hoarsely, to no one in particular. "I should have been there. I should have "
"Astrid."
Killian's arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling me against his chest.
His warmth should have been comforting, but nothing could ease the weight crushing my heart.
His chin pressed against the top of my head, his hold firm but not constricting.
"You have to take care of yourself too," he murmured. "Too much stress, too much grief-it won't help him. It won't help Elara."
At the mention of her name, a fresh wave of pain surged through me, cutting deep, slicing through my ribs, my lungs, my heart.
I squeezed my eyes shut. "They took her, Killian. And now he's-" I sucked in a sharp breath, unable to say it out loud.
"I know." His grip tightened. "But Ryker is still here. And he needs his mother strong. You can't break now."
I wanted to scream that I was already breaking. That I had shattered the moment Elara's screams had echoed in my ears, the moment I had hit the ground, helpless.
But I didn't.
Instead, I swallowed the lump in my throat and turned to the doctor standing at the foot of Ryker's cot, waiting patiently for me to be ready.
I wasn't.
But I forced myself to ask anyway. "What happened?"
The doctor-a graying man with steady eyes and a calm presence-exhaled softly before speaking. "Ryker was thrown against the wall during the attack. He hit his head hard enough to lose consciousness."
My grip on his hand tightened.
"But," the doctor continued, his tone firm, reassuring, "he didn't suffer any serious injuries. The worst was the impact to his head, which caused some swelling, but nothing life-threatening.
We expect him to wake soon, though he will feel weak for a while."
My knees nearly buckled with relief.
Killian, sensing it, guided me gently to sit on the cot beside Ryker, his hand never leaving my shoulder.
"He's strong," the doctor added with a small nod. "Just like his parents."
I wanted to believe him. I needed to believe him.
For a long time, I just sat the handled around my son's
fingers
my
d, my free hand covering mouth as I fought to steady my breathing.
The room was quiet except for the soft crackling of the torches and the faint rustle
of fabric as Killian sat beside me.
I closed my eyes, leaning into his warmth, letting his presence keep me from
slipping too far into my own despair.
Then-
A faint, barely-there movement against my palm.
My eyes snapped open.
Ryker's fingers twitched in my grasp.
I inhaled sharply, my heart leaping into my throat. "Ryker?"
His lashes fluttered, his small brow creasing as if the very act of opening his eyes
was exhausting.
Slowly, painfully, they peeled open-bleary, unfocused, but bright blue, just like mine.
I choked on a sob, smoothing his hair back. "Baby, I'm here. Mommy's here."
He blinked sluggishly, his tiny body shifting beneath the sheets. "Mom..." His voice was raspy, barely above a whisper.
I nodded quickly, brushing away the tears slipping down my cheeks. "I'm here, sweetheart. I'm right here."
His small fingers curled slightly
around mine, his grip weak but there. Then his lips parted again, and whathe said next shattered me all over again.
"Elara?"
His gaze, though heavy with exhaustion, was filled with something deeper. Something fragile. Something afraid.
Tears welled up in my eyes again, thick and suffocating. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.
"Where is my sister?" Ryker asked worriedly, despite the pain that he is in right now. "Did they took her?"
Killian's hand was suddenly on my back, grounding me, steadying me.
"She will be okay," Killian said gently, his voice as steady as stone. "And we're going to bring her home."
Ryker's face twisted slightly, pain flashing through his young features, but he still managed to whisper, "I... I tried to stop them."
I clenched my jaw, my throat aching.
"I know, baby," I said softly, kissing his knuckles. "I know you did."
His lashes fluttered again, his breathing slow, and within moments, he was asleep
once more.
I exhaled shakily, pressing my forehead to his small hand.
Killian's fingers brushed down my spine. "Astrid," he murmured, low and quiet.
I didn't look at him. I couldn't.
Because all I could think about was how terrified my baby girl must be.
And how I would burn the entire world down to bring her back.
Chapter 430: A Price to Pay
Astrid's POV
The walls of the Packhouse had never felt so suffocating.
Days had passed since Elara was taken, but time had lost all meaning.
The world outside moved on, but inside these walls, inside this nightmare, everything was frozen-suspended in a relentless cycle of fear, exhaustion, and waiting.
Waiting for news. Waiting for a sign. Waiting for something, anything, to bring my daughter back.
But all I had were the heavy, sinking hours in between, where every breath felt like a struggle, where every shadow in the room felt like it was closing in on me.
Ryker's condition wasn't improving.
If anything, he was getting worse.
He barely spoke. He barely ate. When he did sleep, it was restless and fitful, his small hands gripping the sheets as if he were still in battle, as if he were still fighting off the monsters that had stolen his sister.
Every time he closes his eyes to sleep, he wakes up screaming his sister's name, tormented by nightmares.
Ryker is blaming himself for what happened to his sister, worsening his health.
And I... I was barely surviving.
I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Elara's terrified face, her small hands reaching
for me, the way her screams had echoed as she was ripped from my grasp.
I had failed her.
I had failed both of them.
I sat by Ryker's bedside, my fingers brushing through his damp hair, pushing it away from his forehead.
His skin was clammy, his breathing too shallow for my liking.
"Ryker," I whispered, my voice hoarse from days of disuse.
His lashes fluttered, but he didn't open his eyes.
I looked down at his hand resting in mine, so small, so fragile, and I felt the weight
of it-how easily I could lose him too.
A shuddering breath escaped me, and I pressed my lips against his knuckles.
"I'm here," I murmured. "I promise I won't leave you."
A deep voice broke through my thoughts. "You can't keep going like this, Astrid."
I didn't turn around. I didn't need to. I knew that voice.
Killian.
He was the only one keeping all of us together.
He had been the one making sure the warriors stayed on high alert, the one taking care of the Pack, the one managing the chaos I no longer had the strength to face.
I know he is also suffering just like us, ridden by guilt and anxiety, but he had to be strong for us. Especially when all of us couldn't hold on any longer.
And now, he was the one trying to hold me together.
I heard the exhaustion in his voice, the weight of his own grief pressing into every syllable.
But I couldn't afford to fall apart now.
I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening around Ryker's. "He's getting worse," I whispered, the words barely audible.
Killian's presence grew closer until he was standing beside me. “Because he's worrying about Elara," he said softly. "And because he's worrying about you."
That made me flinch.
"I'm fine," I lied, my voice sharper than I intended.
Killian exhaled heavily. "Astrid."
I closed my eyes. "I don't care about me, Killian. I care about them."
He crouched beside me, his fingers brushing lightly over my wrist. "And how do you think Ryker feels watching you like this? You haven't eaten in days. You barely sleep You're running yourself into the ground, and he sees it."
I turned to him then, my vision swimming with unshed tears. "What else am I supposed to do?" My voice cracked, "He's sick, Killian. And.
Elara. Elara is out there, scared, alone. What do you want me to do?"
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Killian's golden eyes softened, and he reached up to cup my cheek, his warmth grounding me, steadying me.
"I want you to survive this, Astrid," he said gently. "Because when we bring Elara
home, she's going to need her mother. And Ryker needs her now."
My chest tightened painfully.
I knew he was right.
I knew I wasn't doing anyone any good like this.
But the guilt-the crushing weight of it-was unbearable.
I turned back to Ryker, brushing my fingers over his cheek. "I just want them
safe," I whispered. "I just want this to be over."
Killian squeezed my hand. "It will be."
Before I could respond, the door to the infirmary swung open.
Ryder stepped inside, his face grim, his presence enough to send my heart into a wild, frantic rhythm.
Something had happened.
Killian stood immediately, his body tensing. "What is it?"
Ryder's eyes flicked to me briefly before settling back on Killian. He reached into his cloak and pulled out a folded piece of parchment, the edges rough, the ink smudged in places.
“A message,” he said quietly. “From the rogue king.”
Everything inside me went still.
Killian took the parchment, his jaw tightening as he unfolded it. His golden eyes
scanned the words quickly, his entire body going rigid.
A thick silence settled in the room, stretching unbearably long.
I couldn't take it.
"What does it say?" I demanded, standing abruptly, my knees threatening to
buckle from exhaustion.
Killian's eyes met mine, and in them, I saw something that sent ice through my
veins.
Guilt.
Anger.
Restraint.
He hesitated.
And that told me everything I needed to know.
I grabbed the parchment from his hands before he could stop me, my eyes flying
over the words, my breath coming in shallow, broken gasps.
Your daughter is unharmed.
For now.
If you want her back, Astrid, you know what to do.
Come to me.
I barely registered the sound of the parchment crumpling in my fists.
I barely felt the way my body swayed, barely heard Killian's voice calling my
name.
Because in that moment, there was only one thing echoing in my mind.
Ardan didn't want a war.
He wanted me.
And if it meant getting my daughter back...
I might just give him what he wanted.