Reclaiming My Broken Luna by Selene Souchon

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

body hitting the floor

cut through the oppressive quiet,

startling them from

could reach them, shadows spilled into the room like water seeping through cracks. Rogues-silent,

light, and their movements betrayed a

desperate attack. This was

teeth and flashing steel. My dagger met him halfway,

another was already there to replace him. They

Ryker's small voice, high and trembling, snapped me back to the bed. A

ripped from my throat, raw and feral, as I threw

shoulder, but even as they faltered, another rogue grabbed me

the blade in my hand

my lungs burned, but the rogues

shouted, my voice

But she didn't move.

shimmering with tears, locked on me as the

rogue surged toward her. I lunged, my blade finding its mark, but pain exploded in my back

steel, laced with wolfsbane, seared through my flesh. My knees buckled. My vision blurred, and the

the fog of pain

her with deadly purpose. But before he could reach her, Ryker stepped in, his small frame braced in

shouted,

now contorted in determination, his expression a mirror of his

gripping the room, despite the overwhelming size and strength of the rogue before him, Ryker

little hands clutched a dagger, both fists tightening around

he lifted it in front

Too small. Too

won't let you have my sister," he said, his voice firm, his

flicker of amusement crossed the rogue's

than a game. As if my son was nothing more than an

without hesitation,

Fast. Brutal. Unforgiving.

Ryker with bone crushing force, his small body sent hurtling through the air like

sickening crack-shattered the

to

ripping from my throat as I

body.

My son. My baby.

my limbs betrayed me, heavy and sluggish

wound burned like wildfire, every movement a fresh wave

crawled, dragging myself inch by inch across the

vision blurring.

stung my eyes. Breathe, baby.