Rejected Luna Returns with Secret Twins (Lysandra) novel Chapter 42

1 whipped my head around so fast my neck cracked. Tristan stond just feet away, his broad shoulders filling the dontframe like ha mesed the boring wing. He might as well have.

The other doctors spotted him immediately. Three white coats practically levitated from their chairs, bodies bowing in that uncomfortable way is members did around their Alpha. The café fell silent except for the clatter of silverware someone dropped in their haste to show proper respect

Tristan didn’t acknowledge any of them. His hands were shoved deep in his tailored pants pockets, face carefully blank, but his eyes–those steel blive even rimmed with that unnerving red glow–locked onto something with laser precision.

I followed his gaze and my stomach dropped. My hand was still resting on Rylan’s. I yanked it back like I’d touched a hot stove, then immediately hated myself for the reaction. Like I was guilty of something. Like I needed to explain myself to him.

I rolled my eyes and looked away, but the damage was done. His presence pressed against my skin, making the air around me feel too thin to breathe. The weight of his stare burned into the back of my neck, right where his mark had once been.

The spot tingled with phantom heat, and I unconsciously tensed my shoulders, fingers rubbing my wrist to counter the unsettling shiver his scent sent through me.

Astrid stirred violently in my consciousness, her joy crashing against the barriers of my mind. He’s here! He’s finally heret she howled, her purple essence flashing bright behind my eyes. I fought to suppress her excitement, but her emotions rap so streng my fingertips trembled slightly.

When I managed to look at Tristan again, his attention had shifted to the white lilies on our table. A muscle twitched in his jaw. He must have seen those same flowers in his father’s room this morning.

I decided to ignore his existence. Better for my sanity that way. Internally, I groaned at my luck–only one day in Silverblood territory, and I’d already crossed paths with him twice.

Rylan started to rise, obviously intending to bow to Tristan, but before he could stand fully, Tristan moved forward and placed a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down.

“Dr. Rylan, that’s not necessary,” he said, his voice calm but laced with quiet authority.

Despite Tristan’s permission to remain seated, Rylan kept his head slightly lowered, eyes averted–the classic posture of a wolf in the presence of an Alpha he feared and respected.

Tristan turned to the other doctors who were still frozen in their bowing positions. He waved his hand dismissively. “Sit down, all of you.”

They scrambled back to their chairs, suddenly fascinated by the contents of their plates, not daring to look directly at him.

I noticed Tristan’s hand lingered on Rylan’s shoulder just a beat too long. The tension in the room thickened. Thank the Moon Goddess again we’d stopped discussing the children before Tristan arrived. If he’d overheard that conversation, he might have pieced everything together.

The waitress approached with our food, setting down two plates and fresh cutlery with shaking hands.

“Oh, you’re eating,” Tristan observed, finally removing his hand from Rylan’s shoulder.