Reclaiming My Broken Luna by Selene Souchon

Chapter 432: The Choice

Astrid's POV

The night stretched on, endless and suffocating. The dim glow of the bedside lamp cast long shadows against the walls, but the light felt hollow-cold.

The Packhouse was eerily quiet, the usual hum of distant conversations and footsteps replaced by an unbearable stillness.

I sat on the edge of the bed, my fingers twisting the fabric of my shirt, my thoughts a hurricane raging inside me.

Elara.

Her name was carved into every thought, every breath, every aching second that passed.

She was out there, in the dark, in the hands of the man who wanted nothing more than to see me broken.

And I was still here. Waiting.

I had tried. I had tried to listen to Killian, to hold on to the logic that we could save her together, that there was a plan, a chance.

But how could I gamble my daughter's life on a chance?

What if they were wrong? What if we weren't fast enough? What if she needed me now?

My throat tightened, the guilt curling around me like a noose. I had waited too long already. I had let Killian convince me that we had time.

But I knew better.

I had seen the way rogues worked. They didn't take prisoners out of mercy. They took them to make statements, to break their enemies.

And I would not let my daughter become a casualty in this war.

I inhaled sharply, my mind made up.

I was going to Ardan.

Alone.

The clock on the wall read 2:47 AM.

I had been sitting in silence for the past hour, listening. Waiting.

Killian was downstairs, still working with Ryder and the warriors. He hadn't come back to bed-not that I had expected him to.

He had been watching me too closely, afraid I would spiral again.

But he had let his guard down just enough.

I exhaled slowly, steadying my nerves as I pulled on a dark jacket. My hands trembled as I zipped it up, but I forced myself to breathe.

afford to

door, I crept toward the window. The

floor, but that didn't matter. I had scaled walls higher than this

gutter and lowered myself down carefully. My feet hit the ground

alarms. No guards

Good.

quickly, my pulse thrumming in my

Packhouse, avoiding

near the entrances, expecting an

weren't expecting

coming

skin, anxious, restless, warning me

But I ignored her.

doing this for

nothing-not even Killian-was

Killian's POV

colder

hadn't changed-but something was

still, too empty. A sharp, uneasy sensation curled in

sharply as exhaustion threatened to drag

another wave of scouts, checking

couldn't

Not yet.

again, not until the ghost of grief that clung to her skin like a shadow

I needed to check on her. I had left her alone long enough, and after everything,

my boots making barely a sound

was still slightly ajar,

the second I stepped

me

Something was wrong.

The air felt... hollow.

The bed was untouched.

The window was open.

violently, dread clawing up my

No.

No, no, no-

the window ledge so tightly my

raging inside of me, sensing the

She was gone.

sharp growl rumbled deep in my chest, vibrating through my bones

the darkness outside. Nothing. No movement. Damn

shut as

ears, a deafening drumbeat of panic