Semua Bab He called me fat....I stole his uncle: Bab 71 - Bab 80

Selena.The corridor outside Queen Luna’s chamber always felt different from the rest of the pack house, as though even the air there had been trained to move more carefully. I noticed it every time I came out of that room, as the silence followed me a few steps longer than it should have before dissolving back into the normal rhythm of the packhouse.I adjusted the sleeve of my dress as I walked, more out of habit than necessity, trying to steady the faint pressure still sitting behind my ribs from the visit.Denver's mother had been more awake today than usual, her voice a little clearer, her gaze lingering longer when she spoke. It should have been comforting to see that, but instead it left me unsettled in a way I couldn’t quite explain, like I had been standing too close to something fragile without knowing where to place my hands.By the time I reached the corner leading away from her wing, I told myself I just needed air. Something ordinary. Something that didn’t carry weight

Talia.The room had not changed, but I could not shake the feeling that something inside it had.Or maybe it was just me.I stood by the window, staring out into the dark, though I was not really seeing anything beyond the glass. My thoughts had been turning over the same thing for hours now, circling it from every angle, testing it, resisting it, trying to find one solid reason to walk away from it.There was none.That was the truth I kept coming back to.Christopher had not been wrong.Denver is not a man you simply walk into. He does not open himself easily. Not his time, not his space, and certainly not his heart. Everything about him is controlled, measured, built around decisions that are never made without thought.And yet… Selena had somehow slipped into that space as if she belonged there.My jaw tightened at the thought.Because she doesn’t.She has no right to stand where she stands. No right to be the one beside him, to carry his name, to be seen as something irreplaceable

Selena.I knew something was on his mind the moment he walked in.It wasn’t anything obvious. Denver was too controlled for that. But there was a slight shift in the way he carried himself, a kind of quiet intention behind his movements that made it hard to ignore.I was sitting near the window when he entered, my hands resting loosely in my lap, though I hadn’t been doing anything for a while now. Just sitting. Thinking more than I should.His gaze found me immediately.It always did.“We need to talk,” he said, his voice calm, steady, but not distant.I nodded once, even though something in me had already tightened.He didn’t sit right away. He stood there for a moment, watching me like he was measuring how to say what he needed to say, and that alone made my chest feel heavier.“There’s a remembrance,” he said finally. “For Christopher’s father. It’s been three years.”I didn’t respond immediately, but I felt it.That small shift inside me.My past.“We’ll be going,” he added, his t

Christopher did not return to his room immediately after he left Denver. Instead, he took a quieter corridor, one less used and deliberately out of the main flow of movement, until he reached the room where Talia had been waiting.She was exactly where he expected her to be.Standing near the window, arms loosely folded, her posture composed but not relaxed. To anyone else, it might have looked like patience. To him, it was a restraint held tightly in place.She turned the moment he stepped in.“Well?” she asked.“He’s settled,” Christopher replied as he closed the door behind him. “In his room. Alone.”Her gaze sharpened slightly. “And the guards?”“They’re positioned,” he said. “Close enough to feel useful, far enough to stay out of the way.”That seemed to ease something in her, though not completely.“And the fruits?”“They’ve already been delivered.”Talia’s fingers tightened faintly against her arm before she spoke again. “What if he notices something?”Christopher held her gaze

Selena.By the time I realized I had made up my mind, I was already halfway there.The road stretched endlessly ahead, but my thoughts were louder than the engine, louder than the silence between me and the driver.I had spent days convincing myself I wasn’t ready. That I didn’t need to go back there. That nothing good would come from stepping into a place that had only ever reminded me of what I wasn’t.And yet… here I was.It had been his mother.She hadn’t pushed. She hadn’t demanded. She had simply looked at me with a kind of understanding that made it harder to hide behind my excuses.“You don’t let people decide your place for you,” she had said. “Especially not people who never valued you to begin with.”I had wanted to argue. The words just… didn’t come.Because a part of me already knew she was right.Another part of me knew something else too. I had been pulling away. Not completely, not in ways that could be easily named, but enough that it had started to sit between us. A