Reclaiming My Broken Luna (Astrid and Killian) novel Chapter 377

Astrid’s POV

The cool night air felt sharp against my skin as I stood on the balcony of the Silvermoon Packhouse, staring out at the dark line of trees marking the western border.

The medallion Rowena had left on the council table earlier still weighed heavy in my mind. The intricate symbol, unfamiliar yet menacing, seemed to pulse with a foreboding energy I couldn’t shake.

Killian’s voice behind me broke my thoughts. “They’re too close.”

I turned to face him. He stood in the doorway, his expression hard, his shoulders tense. It wasn’t like him to let the strain show, but tonight, even he couldn’t hide it.

“Scouts?” I asked.

He nodded, stepping closer. “A dozen, maybe more. They’ve crossed into the borderlands.”

“That’s not a coincidence,” I said. “Not after the rogue’s little performance tonight. They’re testing us.”

Killian leaned on the railing, his jaw tight. “They want to see how far they can push before we snap. We need to make a move, and fast, before this turns into something bigger.”

“Then let’s go,” I said without hesitation.

Killian hesitated, his gaze dropping for a moment. “Astrid…”

I knew what he was going to say before the words left his mouth. “Don’t even start,” I cut him off. “You’re not leaving me behind. I’m coming with you.”

His eyes met mine, dark and steady. “This could be dangerous.”

I crossed my arms. “When is it not? We’re stronger together, Killian. You know that.”

He didn’t argue, just gave a single nod. “Fine. But stay close to me.”

The forest was eerily quiet as we approached the western border. The usual nocturnal hum of insects and rustling leaves was replaced by an oppressive silence that made my wolf stir uneasily.

Killian moved ahead, his steps light but deliberate, his senses sharp. I followed close behind, flanked by a small group of our warriors. Their presence was comforting, but it didn’t ease the tension coiling in my chest.

We reached a clearing just shy of the border, and that’s when I smelled it. The faint, acrid tang of rogues.

Killian froze, his hand going up to signal a stop. I strained my ears, trying to pick up on what he was sensing, and then I heard it too—low murmurs, hushed voices coming from beyond the tree line.

“Spread out,” Killian whispered to the warriors. “Stay hidden. Astrid, with me.”

We moved together, slipping through the shadows, until the voices became clearer.

“They’re holding back,” one voice growled, deep and rough.

“We’re not here to start a war,” another replied, calmer but no less menacing. “We’re here to deliver a message.”

A figure stepped into view, barely visible in the moonlight. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and carried himself with a confidence that set my nerves on edge. His voice was steady and cold as he continued.

“Silvermoon is faltering. Their alliances are weak, and their leaders are divided. It won’t be long before the Rogue King takes what’s his.”

My wolf bristled at his words, a low growl threatening to escape my throat. Killian placed a hand on my arm, a silent reminder to stay quiet.