Rejected Luna Returns with Secret Twins (Lysandra) novel Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Lysandra’s POV

Astrid stirred immediately, pushing

gainst my consciousness with surprising eagerness. Turn around. See him.

I steeled myself before looking up. Tristan stood in the doorway, a thick folder tucked under one arm, his imposing figure blocking the exit. The tailored suit emphasized the breadth of his shoulders, the fabric stretched taut across muscles that had only grown more defined in five years.

Our eyes met, and for a heartbeat, I glimpsed something raw and unguarded in those steel–blue depths–something that made my breath catch. Then his expression shuttered, returning to the cold mask I remembered.

Isolde broke the tension, her voice c

“The border issue has been resolved. Hi

“When did you arrive?”

light. “Tristan, you are earlier than usual today.”

gaze remained fixed on me, traveling down then up with deliberate slowness that left a trail of heat in its wake

Just now,” I replied, forcing my voice to remain steady despite the thunder of my heart.

Fenris’s eyes shifted between us, a hint of satis in his expression. “You contacted her, didn’t you, son? Thank you.”

Tristan finally looked away, his jaw tightening slightly. “You kept asking for her.”

The simplicity of the statement carried layers of meaning I couldn’t begin to unpack. Had he reached out for his father’s sake alone? Or had there been another motivation?

He moved into the room, setting his folder on a side table. The space seemed to shrink with his presence, the air growing thicker, harder to breathe. When he approached the bed, he passed behind my chair, close enough that his suit jacket brushed my shoulder. The brief contact sent a jolt through me that! fought to hide.

“The doctors say your numbers have improved slightly,” he informed his father, his voice losing some of its edge. “The new treatment seems to be working.”

Fenris waved a dismissive hand. “Enough about my health. I’m more interested in our guest.” He tightened his grip on my hand, drawing Tristan’s attention to our connected fingers. “It’s good to have family together again.”

The word “family” hung between us, laden with painful irony. If only he knew how accurate that statement was–how his son’s blood ran through the veins of my children.

“I’ve always hoped to see the future of our bloodline,” Fenris continued, his gaze growing distant. “Silverblood Pack needs new generations to carry on our legacy.”

Something must have shown in my expression, because Isolde quickly interjected, “Fenris, dear, perhaps we shouldn’t tire you with such discussions now.”

“I’m not tired,” he insisted, eyes clearing as they fixed on me again. His voice dropped to a more intimate tone. “The doctors won’t say it directly, but I know my wolf is fading. When that happens…” He let the thought, hang. “Before I go, I just wish I could see our family continue. Some sign that our bloodline will endure.”

The words struck deep, laced with an irony that made my chest ache. His grandchildren existed–my beautiful moonbeams with their father’s steel–blue eyes and commanding presence. Yet here he was, longing for what he already had but couldn’t know.

Tristan moved closer, his arm brushing against mine as he reached to adjust his father’s blanket. The casual contact shouldn’t have “cted me, yet heat bloomed where our skin had connected.

“Dad, there’s something I’ve been wondering about. Tristan’s deep voice broke the silence. He moved to stand at the foot of the bed, keeping a careful distance from me. “In werewolf society, some people choose to hide children’s true heritage, never letting them know their bloodlines. Do you know what that means for those children?”

Everyone tensed at his words. Beta Varian, who’d entered silently behind Tristan, shifted uncomfortably and touched his Alpha’s arm.

Alpha, perhaps now isn’t the best time for this topic,” he suggested quietly.

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Chapter 38

“Why not, Varian?” Tristan’s gaze hardened. ‘It’s fact. In our society, children who don’t know their bloodlines are called

“ALPHA TRISTAN! My voice cut through the room sharper than 1 intended.

My entire body trembled with cage. Astrid snarled within me, pushing against my control, demanding release. He stood there, passing judgment du choda n -his own children–without knowing. The irony burned like acid in my throat.

Fenris’s hand tightened around mine. “Tristan, enough. This topic shows disrespect to those present.

I struggled to keep tears from spilling onto my cheeks. My knuckles turned white as I clenched my free hand into a fist, nails digging painfully into my palm.

Tristan’s steel–blue eyes locked onto mine, a blood–red ring forming around his irises as he studied my reaction. Confusion flickered across his features, followed by something I couldn’t name.

I took a deep breath. “I apologize for my outburst,‘ I said, turning to Fenris and Isolde. “I overreacted.

‘No need for apologies, dear.” Isolde shook her head, her silver hair catching the light. ‘Sometimes I hardly recográze my own son anymore.

Tristan’s jaw tightened. “Mom, I merely stated facts. As Alpha, I must consider pack traditions and reputation.

“As Alpha, you should consider fairness and justice first.” Fenris’s voice weakened but lost none of its authority. “You’re our son, but that doesn’t mean we must agree with every view you hold.”

Isolde touched her husband’s shoulder. “Fenris, please stay calm. Your wolf needs peace right now.”

Tristan sighed, turning to his Beta. “Varian, how did my dad teach us when he was Alpha?”