All Chapters of Second Chance For The Broken Luna: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

Krista*I woke to the persistent sensation of someone tapping lightly against my arm. At first, I tried to ignore it. I buried my face deeper into the pillow, dragging the blanket higher over my shoulder with a grumble. The bed was warm, the room cool from the early morning air drifting through the curtains, and after the emotionally exhausting day I had yesterday, sleep had claimed me deeply.The tapping came again. “Krista,” a voice whispered urgently. “Kristaaa.”With immense reluctance, I cracked one eye open. Serah hovered over me, her eyes practically glowing with excitement. I blinked at her blearily before turning my head toward the window. Pale dawn light barely filtered through the curtains. The sun had not properly risen yet.Groaning, I looked back at her. “Serah,” I muttered hoarsely, “why in the Goddess’s name are you waking me up at this hour?”There were soap suds still clinging to her forearms and even one streak near her elbow as if she had abandoned whatever washin

Krista *I could understand that more than I wanted to admit. Because once upon a time, I had been in her exact position as the anxious wife watching another woman occupy her husband’s thoughts. The woman trying desperately not to notice that part of the man she loved belonged elsewhere.My grip tightened slightly around the hairbrush. I remembered the day Laurel returned vividly and I remembered the way Jacob had looked at her. Somewhere deep inside myself, I had known that whatever fragile delusion I had built for myself — the fantasy that maybe someday Jacob would truly love me — had finally come to an end.It had hurt more than I could describe. So yes, even if I had no love for Laurel, I understood the insecurity consuming her now. And for that reason alone, I pitied her.A knock sounded on the door, interrupting my train of thought and I called for the knocker to come in. I expected it to be Serah, here with my breakfast or another serving of gossip, but no, it was Jacob, clad

Krista*The woods sounded different without my wolf, but not entirely dead. There were still sounds if I concentrated hard enough. Tiny movements hidden behind the groan of branches overhead and the whisper of wind through leaves.There was another rustle, closer this time. I narrowed my eyes and moved carefully towards it, placing each foot down with deliberate caution. The damp earth softened my footsteps and the cold air brushed against my face as I slipped between the trees.Somewhere behind me, Jacob remained silent and watching. I refused to think about how aware I was of him even now. Instead, I focused until the world narrowed, until all I could hear was the faint scrape-scrape-scrape ahead of me.Then I saw it. At the base of a large tree sat a squirrel, tiny paws working busily as it buried something under loose dirt and leaves. In this darkness, the animal was little more than a blur of grey-brown fur and twitching movement, but my entire attention locked onto it instantly

Krista*When I still lived with the pack, he’d had my devotion and my loyalty. My love as well, even when he did not return it. Even when he looked through me and longed for another woman. I had still loved him anyway.Then when I finally left and clawed together some semblance of a new life for myself, he came to Eldeg and dragged me back into the orbit of the Red Moon Pack all over again. Another thing he wanted.And now, he wanted more: my fear, my panic, my submission. He wanted me running through the forest like prey while he chased me for sport. As the realization settled into me, something ugly and furious began rising in my chest.No. I was done letting Jacob have whatever he wanted from me simply because he reached for it. The rage built and built until my vision blurred around the edges. The wolf in front of me remained still, golden eyes fixed on mine as if waiting to see what I would do next.That calmness only infuriated me further. “You think this is funny?” I hissed.J

Jacob *Krista would not leave my mind. When we had changed into the clothes in my bag and had returned from the woods, the silence between us had stretched taut the entire walk back to the manor. Neither of us had spoken about what happened. Not about her shifting, not about her wolf appearing and certainly about the hatred I had heard so clearly in her wolf’s voice.The moment we stepped inside the manor, Krista had turned to me and said she needed time alone. Her expression had been tight, overwhelmed in a way I understood all too well. Before I could even think to answer, she had already begun walking away.I had let her go. What else could I have done?The happenings in the woods had left my mind in disarray, each thought colliding violently against the next. But chief among them all was one terrible realization: Krista’s wolf hated me. Not disliked or distrusted or even loathed. She well and truly hated me.Krista herself carried anger toward me, yes, but there was restraint to