Semua Bab Forsaken Luna's Second Chance: Bab 61 - Bab 70

BEATRICEIt’s the way he looks at her—the softness in his eyes, the ease in his posture—that hits me harder than I want to admit.Maxwell’s shoulders are relaxed, his head tilted slightly as the woman speaks. He’s smiling—really smiling—not that cold, reserved smirk he gives in public, but something genuine and warm. Something rare.And it’s not for me.I know I have no right to feel this way. We’re not together. We never were. He never promised anything. But somewhere between him showing up at my hospital bedside and handing me my training badge, I let myself believe... maybe.Maybe he saw me.Maybe he felt something.But looking at him now—easing that woman out of the car, his fingers brushing hers like it’s the most natural thing in the world—I feel like the stupid girl I swore I’d never be again.“Mom?”Bailey’s voice snaps me back.“Hmm?”“You’re squeezing my hand too tight.”I blink, loosening my grip. “Sorry, sweetheart.”Bailey tilts her head. “You’re staring.”I force a smile.

BEATRICEI’ve fought for my life more times than I can count—but standing in front of a class of teenagers with practice swords feels like the scariest battlefield I’ve ever walked into.“Alright,” I say, loud enough to carry across the field. “Everyone line up.”They don’t move right away.Some of them glance at each other. A few shift their feet, clearly unsure. Only a handful—the ones I used to help as an assistant—step into position without hesitation. The rest?They’re waiting to see if I’ll crack.Aria stands off to the side, arms folded, face unreadable. She told me she’d let me lead on my own, just observing for the first few sessions unless something goes off the rails. I appreciated it earlier. Now I’m starting to wonder if I should’ve begged her to bark the first orders instead.I clear my throat. “I said, line up. Right. Now.”There’s something in my tone—steady, clipped—that finally gets them moving. Begrudgingly.“Good,” I say. “Today, we’re going back to basics. Footwork

BEATRICEThe second someone says, “We need to talk about your daughter,” my heart drops like a stone in my chest.I’ve just taken off my apron, ready to head out and pick Bailey up from the academy when a tall woman in sleek business clothes steps into my path. Her tone is polite but urgent, and I freeze instantly.“Is she okay?” I ask, panic rising in my throat like bile. “Did something happen?”“She’s safe,” the woman says quickly, hands up in a calming gesture. “I promise. We just… we’d like to speak with you. It’s important. Please come with me.”My instincts are on full alert, but something about her—her steady eyes, her lack of condescension—makes me pause. Still, I nod cautiously and follow her, heart racing with every step.She leads me out of the bakery and down a series of quiet streets that get nicer with every corner we turn. I recognize the area. Too well. It’s the upper district—cleaner stone paths, curated storefronts, and high-end restaurants lit by soft golden lanterns

BEATRICEIt’s funny how one word can knock the air right out of you—and how another can bring it rushing back just as fast.“She’s my sister,” Maxwell says, looking directly at me.My lips part. “Your… sister?”He nods, one hand still tucked in his coat pocket, the other brushing his jaw as if he’s nervous. “Dalia. She’s younger by two years. I haven’t seen her in a while, so we’re catching up.”Relief crashes over me so abruptly, I nearly forget to breathe. I’m not sure what’s worse—that I was jealous, or that I actually believed, for a second, that he’d moved on without even looking back.But now?Now I feel ridiculous.And strangely… light.“Oh,” I say, trying not to sound as pathetically relieved as I feel. “I didn’t know she was in town.”“She came early,” he says. “She wanted to avoid the Dragon Court’s formalities.”Ah. There it is again.The reminder that no matter how close Maxwell stands to me now, someone far more fitting is being dressed in silk and gold to stand at his sid

BEATRICEI’ve faced exile, heartbreak, and a near-death severing of my mate bond—but nothing prepares me for the emotional gut-punch of baking desserts for the woman who might take Maxwell away for good.“You’ll be handling the final touches for the Dragon Court’s banquet,” my boss says, like he’s handing me a golden opportunity. “It’s the most important event we’ve ever catered. I’m trusting you with this.”I nod automatically, even as my stomach flips. “Of course. I won’t let you down.”But I already feel like I’m crumbling from the inside out.The kitchen bustles with movement—bowls clinking, ovens humming, the scent of citrus and sugar thick in the air—but it all feels muted around me. I mix batter, roll dough, pipe delicate flowers onto cakes while pretending I’m not silently counting down the hours until I’ll be in the same room as her.The Dragon Princess.Beautiful. Regal. Exactly the kind of woman who doesn’t have to earn respect through blood, sweat, and whispered rumors. She