Todos los capítulos de Abandoned Luna: Now Untouchable: Capítulo 201 - Capítulo 210

Sebastian's povThe color drained from my mother's face as if she'd just witnessed a car crash in slow motion.Neither option appealed to her. That much was obvious."I'm giving you ten minutes to decide," I said evenly, my tone almost gentle--the kind of voice you hear right before a legal clause kicks in.*Finally making a stand*, my wolf growled within me. *She thinks she can keep pushing us away from our mate.*"If you can't reach a decision by then, I'll be happy to make one on your behalf.""You're forcing my hand!" my mother snapped, anger flaring in her eyes. "I refuse to choose!"I leaned back, calm as ever. "Mother, let's not rewrite history. When I expressed concerns about Amara returning to Denver, you personally reassured me. You said she wasn't here to start trouble, that she wouldn't interfere with my relationship, and that everything had been mutually agreed upon. I respected that. I stepped back. Correct?""...Yes," she admitted, her voice barely audible."Good. I exte

Cecilia's povI couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Wait--what? You forced her out?"Sebastian gave me a sideways glance, that infuriatingly charming half-smile tugging at his lips--the one that always made my heart do something reckless."Technically," he said, "my mother asked her to leave."I blinked at him, stunned.He reached over, one hand leaving the steering wheel to curl around my waist."Because," he murmured, voice brushing over my skin like velvet, "she's getting ready to welcome the woman who'll stand at my side--for life."My breath caught.For a split second, I couldn't decide if I was elated or on the verge of cardiac arrest.Then reality hit--not like a slap, but like a bucket of cold water on a winter day: jarring, unwelcome, and impossible to ignore.Who was I kidding?His mother would never accept me. Not really.This wasn't a fairy tale. I wasn't what she pictured when she thought of her son's mate. Not even close.But still...He'd gone to war with his family fo

Cecilia's pov"I'm not entirely sure either," Yvonne replied, shaking her head slightly, a faint frown forming.Harper, who'd mostly come along for the adventure and the free champagne, looked around the room with zero recognition.Even without the masks, she wouldn't have known most of these women anyway--this wasn't her crowd, and definitely not her scene.Noticing their distracted expressions, I lowered my voice. "What's wrong? Are you getting a weird vibe from this party too?"Yvonne hesitated, then let out a soft laugh. "I've dealt with Mrs. Dahlia before. She's a big-time philanthropist. She and her husband are the kind of couple who get invited to mayoral galas and charity auctions--not the type running some secret society or pyramid scheme."She gave a shrug. "Yeah, tonight's a little... off. But I doubt it's anything shady.""That's fair," I said, "but it never hurts to trust your gut. If we're both getting a weird feeling, it's probably worth paying attention."Yvonne gesture

Cecilia's povI paused, slightly taken aback.This VIP lady certainly had an interesting way of making conversation--flitting from wistful nostalgia to casual questioning in under five seconds.She clearly assumed I was some heiress from one of Denver's old-money families.How very country-club of her."Madam," I replied with a playful smile, "isn't the entire point of a masquerade to preserve the mystery? I'm afraid I can't answer that question."She studied my face more carefully as I spoke, something flickering in her eyes--recognition, maybe? Or suspicion? Hard to tell in this lighting."You're absolutely right," she laughed."What was I thinking? That Mrs. Dahlia and her themed parties... always reinventing the wheel. Why turn a perfectly good gala into a masquerade?""Exactly," I agreed lightly.Privately, I thought:Probably to set you up, VIP lady.That gold mask had felt like bait wrapped in satin. Whatever it was meant to trigger, it wouldn't have ended well for her.Why Mrs. D

Cecilia's pov"That tarot lady looks like she's about to pull a rabbit out of someone's chest cavity," Yvonne whispered, eyeing the black-masked figure now standing center stage like the final act at a haunted circus.We'd positioned ourselves in the third row of the forming crowd--close enough to catch the grim details, far enough to avoid becoming part of the show.The woman in black was tall and rail-thin, draped in midnight satin. Her mask covered her entire face, ornate and vaguely insectoid--like something salvaged from a Tim Burton prop closet, then dipped in dread.What little skin peeked out from her sleeves was taut but showing age--not elderly, but the kind of "ageless" that comes from pricey dermatologists and weekly microcurrent facials."That's not a tarot reader," I muttered. "That's a walking Halloween special."Harper leaned in, her eyes scanning the room like a surveillance algorithm, sharp and silent."Think about it. What if this isn't just a reading? What if it's a