Don't Poke the Luna (Xena and Ryder)

Chapter 289

Chapter 291

Xena's POV

The sound of a car door slamming made my heart race. I could see Ryder jumping out of the SUV before it had even fully stopped. He was running toward the pack house, his face a mixture of relief and desperate worry.

I stood up from the couch, my legs shaky but determined.

"Xena," he breathed, his voice cracking with emotion.

He rushed toward me, and I met him halfway. His arms wrapped around me carefully, avoiding my injuries, pulling me against his chest. The warmth of his body, the familiar scent of his skin, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my ear-it all crashed over me like a wave of pure relief.

I tilted my head up to look at him, our foreheads touching as our eyes locked. In that moment, nothing else existed. Just this perfect moment of being alive and together.

He leaned down and kissed me, soft and tender at first, then with growing

intensity as the reality of our reunion hit us both. I kissed him back with everything

I had, pouring all my love and gratitude into that single moment.

"Okay, you two, maybe save some of that for when you're alone," Logan's amused voice cut through our bubble.

from Ryder, heat flooding my cheeks as embarrassment washed over me. "We need to talk," I

shifted to

with fury, his eyes immediately flashing black. "She's contained," I

at his sides. "How the fuck did she get out?

yet," Penelope said, stepping forward. "We're investigating the prison break,

talk," Logan said, his voice deadly calm. The Alpha authority radiating

nodded, gesturing toward the stairs. "She's

and Penelope following close behind. The two female warriors stationed

I asked

She's been quiet since the

to open the door. They pushed the

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Chapter 291

with glucose. She looked up at us with hollow, dead eyes before immediately dropping her gaze back to

bring a pizza and a Coke from the kitchen,"

quickly, running out to

volcano. He charged forward, his fist connecting with her face and sending her crashing to the ground. The IV needle tore from her hand, blood spurting

cries grew weaker with each blow, her body unable to handle

the years of abuse and cruelty, seeing her so broken stirred an unwelcome feeling of pity in my heart. I hated that I felt it, hated that some part of

head away, unable to

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