Reclaiming My Broken Luna (Astrid and Killian) novel Chapter 364

Nova’s POV

The attic was darker and colder than I’d expected. Dust floated in the dim light that streamed through a cracked window, and the air carried the faint scent of cedar and time.

This part of the Shadowfang Pack house had been sealed off for years—ever since Liora’s death.

Drystan had given me permission to look through her things, but stepping into the space felt like crossing into sacred ground.

Her scent was long gone, replaced by the mustiness of disuse, but I could still feel her presence here.

Liora had always seemed larger than life, unbreakable, but here she was just a collection of forgotten memories, packed away in old boxes.

I moved cautiously, my fingers trailing over the stacks of wooden crates and trunks.

A soft creak from the floorboards behind me made me turn.

“You don’t have to do this,” Drystan said, his voice low. He stood in the doorway, his face shadowed but his concern clear. “I can look through it if you want. You don’t need to carry this.”

I shook my head, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I need to, Drystan. I need to understand. She hid so much from me, and if there’s anything here that can help us…” My voice trailed off.

Help us with the rogues. With the Rogue King. With understanding why she made the choices she did.

He nodded, stepping back but not leaving entirely.

He was giving me space, but I could feel his presence just outside the door—a silent reassurance.

I turned back to the room and began opening the boxes. The first few held little of note: old clothes, trinkets, and faded photographs of a time I barely remembered.

But then, in a smaller chest near the back of the room, I found something different.

A leather-bound journal. Its edges were worn, and the clasp that once held it shut was broken.

My hands trembled slightly as I opened it. The handwriting inside was unmistakably hers—strong, deliberate strokes that mirrored her personality.

With a strong blow, the thick dust covering the leather was removed and I started flipping through the pages.

The entries were fragmented, scattered across years. Some were simple recollections of our time in the forest, little moments I’d long forgotten.

Others were darker, written in hurried script that reflected her state of mind.

“Nova doesn’t understand, and I pray she never does. The rogues are not what they seem. They’re not just scavengers—they’re soldiers. They want to destroy the Packs, to rebuild the world in their image. And they think I can help them.”

“The Rogue King isn’t like the others. He sees everything, knows everything. I thought I could outsmart him, but I was wrong. He knows what I did, knows I’m hiding Nova. If I don’t leave soon, he’ll find us.”

My breath hitched as I read the words, the full weight of what she’d been dealing with hitting me like a blow.