All Chapters of Rejected Luna: Awakening Her Silver Wolf: Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

Darius's POV I flinched. “Because you get all serious. But when you're not, I'm not that scared anymore—at least not after seeing you cry yesterday.” Damn it. This was so complicated. This was what I wanted—her not being scared of me, to be free whenever I'm around her. But the way she said it hurt. No, it kicked my pride again. Did she have to be so harsh with her words? I know I hurt her, and the things I had done were somehow irredeemable. But couldn't she just act like everything was okay between us? Sometimes, couldn't she pretend she liked me even a little? Sometimes... I forced my thoughts aside and bit into a slice of bread. “I'm not sure what you prefer,” I said, gesturing towards the fridge. “There's a variety of juices in there. If you get hungry and I'm not here, just let my beta, Alan, know what kind of food you like, and he will see to it.” She shook her head

Darius's POV And with that said, even when I called her back, she didn't stop. She didn't say another word, leaving me alone to fume all by myself. My hand swiped the food that was on the table, and when I found nothing else to swipe, I lifted the chair in order to break it as well. But I couldn't. I didn’t—letting the chair fall backwards before falling down as well to my knees, clenching my hands tightly onto my hair, feeling defeated. It was painful—excruciatingly painful. I had been maimed before. I had even suffered a physical injury that had almost killed me. But those injuries didn't hurt like this. They didn't hurt like her words did. Her words were excruciatingly painful, and they hurt right at my beating organ in my chest. For the second time in my life, I felt it again—the pain of losing something dear to me. And the part of helplessness made the pain even more promi

Eleanor's POV Ever since the diary incident, I could feel that Darius didn't seem like the man who had ruthlessly kidnapped me. Who had heartlessly done all those things—he seemed to have become quieter, more calm, even though he didn't look like someone deserving of any atom of pity. Sometimes, I could feel my heart go out for him. Sometimes he would look pathetic, and other times he would look commanding, even though it wasn't as prominent and scary as before. An instance was the fiasco at breakfast. The old Darius that I had come to know would have thrown me back into the dungeon with immediate effect, with the way I had spoken to him. But this Darius looked so speechless. Even when he watched me walk out on him, I could hear a thud as I took steps further away. Maybe he had fallen to his knees, but I had hoped that he had just died. And just like before, I had thought that

Eleanor's POV. He took it further. He deepened the kiss, wanting to go further with his tongue as it begged for permission. And for some reason, I obliged, opening up and allowing his tongue to wander, to search, to explore. And when he broke the kiss, It left me feeling breathless, and damn, it had me feeling riled up. I slowly opened my eyes, but when did they even flutter closed anyway? I wasn't supposed to enjoy it. “I wish you the best of everything, and make sure to live happily without me. Goodbye, Eleanor,” he said. After saying that, he slowly turned around and started walking in the opposite direction. His hands were already in his pockets and his shoulders were slumped. He looked defeated, lifeless. He wished me well, and the same I wished him. I panted out, and like he had done, turned in the other direction, finally walking away and into the pack lands.

Marcella's POV “Tell me,” I demanded, hanging on a thin thread that was almost going to snap. “Tell me why you can't love me.” His face looked passive, but his tone held a tinge of apology when he replied, “I don't know.” What does he mean by he doesn't know? That is not the answer I am looking for. At this moment, I grabbed his collar, drawing him closer. I didn't know what else to do. So I just kept hitting his chest as sobs miserably climbed out of my throat in rows. My hand stopped when I got tired from my seemingly futile hits, my head slowly resting on his shoulder. Just like back when I was a child—yes, a child. I had come a long way with Darius. We both grew up together, broken, just as our homes were. We were, in a sense, like a glue that had kept us bonded since childhood. I knew Darius's story, and he knew mine as much as I had known his. And our lives became intertw