Reclaiming My Broken Luna 2

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?"

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.noveldrama

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.