Reclaiming My Broken Luna (Astrid and Killian) novel Chapter 380

Killian’s POV

The Forsaken Amulet sat in the center of the Silvermoon council table, its ornate carvings shimmering faintly in the dim light.

The room was silent, heavy with the weight of what we’d brought back from the ruins.

“It doesn’t look like much,” Drystan said, his tone edged with frustration as he leaned back in his chair.

“It doesn’t have to,” Nova replied sharply, her gaze fixed on the Amulet. “You felt what it did to us down there. This thing is dangerous, whether it looks like it or not.”

I nodded, my eyes narrowing as I stared at the artifact. The power radiating from it was subtle but undeniable, a constant hum that set my wolf on edge.

“We can’t keep it here,” Astrid said, breaking the tense silence. “If the rogues find out we have it, they’ll stop at nothing to get it back.”

“That’s assuming they don’t already know,” Drystan muttered.

The tension in the room was palpable, every word charged with the fear and uncertainty of what lay ahead.

The meeting was interrupted by the sharp knock of a scout at the council chamber door. He entered quickly, his face pale and his breathing labored.

“Alpha Killian,” he said, his voice trembling. “There’s… there’s someone at the border. He claims he’s a messenger from the Rogue King.”

The room erupted in murmurs, but I silenced them with a raised hand. “What does he want?”

The scout swallowed hard. “He says he’s here to negotiate.”

Astrid frowned. “Negotiate what?”

The scout hesitated, his gaze flicking toward the Amulet. “He wants to offer terms for the Amulet’s return.”

The room fell silent, every eye turning to the artifact.

“It’s a trap,” Nova said firmly.

“Of course it is,” Drystan agreed. “But we can’t ignore it. If the Rogue King is bold enough to send a messenger, we need to know what he’s planning.”

I stood, my decision already made. “Astrid, Nova, Drystan—you’re with me. The rest of you stay here and guard the Amulet. If anything happens, you know what to do.”

The air was sharp with tension as we approached the border. The forest was quiet, the usual hum of life muted as if even the trees knew what was coming.

The messenger stood alone in the clearing, his hands raised in a gesture of surrender. He was tall and wiry, his features sharp and his eyes gleaming with the predatory cunning of a rogue.

“You’re braver than I expected,” he said, his voice smooth and mocking. “Or maybe just desperate.”

“Get to the point,” I snapped.

The rogue smiled, his sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight. “The Rogue King sends his regards. He’s willing to offer you a deal.”